For all his determination, Peter couldn't help but pause in the door for a few seconds, staring. He still didn't know who had brought new clothes for Rachel (it had to have been someone else, Rachel loved her leather far too much), but he made a mental note to thank them personally. They had good taste, and the style flattered Rachel in ways the leather hadn't done. She'd looked dangerous and sexy before; and completely unattainable. Peter liked these new clothes a whole lot better.
He realized again that he'd been very stupid. Rachel had been all but throwing herself at him, just waiting for him to wake up and realize it - and he'd been too involved in own his head to reciprocate. But not anymore. This was Rachel. The same Rachel that had saved his life, risked her own for his. The same Rachel who had tolerated his awful singing in the shower, had curled up with him on the couch to watch Oprah, who'd laughed at his stupid jokes. The same Rachel who looked gorgeous even when she was bleary eyed and grumpy in the mornings, who'd tried her best. He'd been head over heels all along, he just hadn't looked deep enough to know.
Features setting in renewed determination, Peter didn't say anything; he just strode over, cupped Rachel's face in his hands, and looked at her for a moment. Then, he grinned. "Should have done this a long time ago," he confessed, leaning down to kiss her.
I had pretty much given up on Peter. Honestly, I couldn't have said why I'd held out as long as I did. If there was one thing I didn't do well it was pursue; I'd always been the one being chased after. So why I'd done it with Peter, why I'd pushed time and time again after I had just gotten shoved aside, I hadn't a clue.
But I did know that I was done.
There was nothing more to say, beyond the fact that I was sick to death of words. He said he loved me but his actions spoke louder and of something quite different. I was finished with embarrassing myself, done with trying to make sense out of everything. It was quite obvious that he didn't return my feelings and was just too damn nice to let me down. So I'd just bow out. Nothing horrible about that, really. It hadn't worked. No spark (no matter how much I had convinced myself otherwise). No shame in that. It happened.
Which meant that Peter suddenly bursting in my door, covered in paint and with an expression I'd never quite seen before on his face made me momentarily speechless. He looked... Confident. Determined.
Sexy as hell, damn him.
Brow furrowing slightly in confusion, I'd started to ask him what was going on when he was there, touching my face, saying...
Kissing me.
Oh.
For a second I froze. Not ashamed to admit it. It was all out of nowhere and I'd long stopped expecting it and, just for an instant, my brain was too busy wondering if he'd been huffing paint fumes to respond. But just for a second. Then my arms were sliding around his neck and I leaned into the kiss, returning it with an awed passion that I hadn't even realized I was holding back.
Dear God, I never thought he'd wake up.
Breaking away, shaking my head slightly, I breathed out a quiet laugh. "Hey," I murmured, giving him a crooked smile. Now, see, this was the type of greeting I could get used to. My thumb ghosted across his cheek. "You've got paint on you."
Yes, I was highly articulate when I'd just gotten a kiss that made my stomach do flip-flops. Shut up.
"Came to my senses in the middle of painting, and I couldn't wait," Peter shrugged, halfway between smiling and just looking at Rachel with something resembling awe. If he were a less lucky man, she would have kicked him to the curb long ago for making her wait that long. He'd count it among her good fortunes that she had.
And she wasn't pulling away, she'd returned the kiss, and thank god he wasn't too late. "I'm sorry," Peter pressed a light kiss to her lips. "I'll stop being so stupid." Another kiss, and Peter frowned in determination, trying to make himself stop. He had to apologize, dammit. "I'll stop getting caught up in my head, and I'm sorry for sitting on the ant so much when I could have been spending time with you, and I'm sorry for singing Journey so loud in the shower." Okay, the latter probably didn't need to be apologized for, but everything was just sort of coming out in one big rush.
He made himself pause, lightly stroking Rachel's cheekbone. "I'm sorry for a lot of things. But I love you, so much, and it took me way too long to do something about that. I'm not too late, am I?"
"Peter?" I asked, a giddy smile spreading across my face. "Shut up."
It was... Yeah, there really weren't words. So I fisted my hands in his shirt and tugged him back into me, kissing him eagerly, letting my eyes fall close and my entire being melt into him.
This was what I'd wanted and never thought I'd get. But he was here, in front of me, saying these things I'd given up on hearing and all I could think was 'Please, God, don't let me mess this up'. He loved me. He loved me and he was kissing me and my heart was going a thousand miles an hour as I tried to wrap my mind around it. I didn't deserve him. That was achingly clear. But he was here and I wasn't going to question it.
My palms slid up his chest and back around his neck, fingers twining in his hair and we kissed until I had to break away, breathing ragged and eyes shining. Scattering quick hop-skip kisses along his jaw, I murmured, "And I like you singing Journey in the shower."
"But I need to apologize, and-" Peter started to protest, only to be cut off by getting distracted in the far more enjoyable activity of kissing Rachel. All thoughts of apologizing fled out of his mind, because Rachel really was a good kisser, and Peter's mind tended to short-circuit pretty quickly in times like this.
An odd expression crossed his face at the revelation that she liked his singing of Journey; somewhere between glee and hope and embarrassment. She couldn't really, his singing scared off screeching cats, but it was the sentiment that mattered. Grinning, and biting down lightly on Rachel's lower lip before he pulled away, Peter laughed quietly. He ran his hands down her back, hooking his thumbs into the break between shirt and skirt, tracing lightly over the warm skin in the small of her back. He really had waited too long for this.
"I can keep apologizing, but something tells me you know it already," he murmured, ducking his head to trail a line of kisses along the curve of her neck.
Oh, and hello, forward Peter! Where the hell had you been hiding? "Mmm," I agreed absently. "We can definitely have a discussion on how stupid you were and how right I was." His lips hit that spot just at the hollow of my neck and I gave a tiny little gasp. "Later." Much, much later.
It'd been so long. And I'd wanted this for what literally felt like forever. My fingers traced a path down the back of Peter's neck, fingernails lightly scratching the skin. An, "I love you," was murmured before I lowered my lips to his in a brief, firm kiss, letting my mouth trail off to explore along his jaw, my tongue tasting the skin just under his ear. Every bit of him that I'd been longing to touch and taste and feel and experience was suddenly open to me and I wanted to spend days on every inch of skin, learning every line and secret place, finding all the things that made him gasp and moan.
Sliding my hands down, I pushed fingers under his shirt to run them along Peter's stomach. "Have you ever had sex with a witch before?" I asked, hiding a laugh in the crook of his neck. "Because if not, I'm warning you. It might be slightly different than what you're used to."
Wait. What if that wasn't where he was going? What if he was still unsure, what if this was just something he'd done to try and appease me? Eyes flashing into worry, I pulled back slightly, looking up at him. "I mean... Not that we have to--" Oh, God, I'd messed up. World record to me. "If you don't... Obviously I do, but I don't want to--" Wincing, I shook my head, moving to step back from him. "Sorry," I muttered, suddenly interested in staring at my nails.
Mumbling a "Mm-hmm," of agreement into Rachel's neck, Peter hoped as well that said discussion would happen later rather than sooner. For now, he felt a little like a kid in candy store; something he loved was right here, and all these new things to explore!
Peter could be accused of falling in love far too often, but most of those times it hadn't been like this. Rachel felt for him as strongly as he felt for her, he could feel it in her emotions like a gentle lap of water against his mind. And he was the one making her feel like this? It was amazing enough that he could even share in that, let alone feel it. Empathy could be a wonderful thing sometimes.
But god, it was getting really hard to think right now. Especially when Rachel's tongue was on that sensitive spot just under his ear, and thoughts weren't really important, were they? He hoped not, because he was far more fascinating with brushing his fingers against the base of Rachel's spine, leaning into her touch and kissing her as intently as he could manage while being distracted with how overwhelmingly good this felt.
Wait, where was she going? Confusion flew across Peter's expression for a moment, before he realized - oh, no, she was just concerned that she was being too forward. Hands still on her back, Peter pulled Rachel back up against him, a crooked grin lurking at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, you're not going anywhere," he commanded playfully. With a glance across at the door, he mentally nudged it into closing and locking - precision training with telekinesis really came in handy sometimes. "I want to find out what sex with a witch is like," his grin turned a shade wicked. "You can't back out now, after telling me that."
My eyebrows jumped up and I breathed out a quick laugh. "Yes, sir," I murmured with a wide grin of relief. I quickly unzipped my hoodie, shrugging it off onto the floor. Fingers hooking into the waistband of his jeans, I tugged us back towards my bed, ducking my head to kiss down the front of his throat, teeth catching at the skin in tiny nips, tongue tracing around his Adam's apple.
His touch on my back made me shiver and I breathed out a shaky little growl of frustration as the collar of his shirt stopped my mouth from dipping lower. Well, that needed to change. Pulling on the hem of his shirt, I laughed, "Off," tugging it up and over his head.
Wow. Just...yeah. I'd seen him without his shirt before, but not like this, and for a moment I just let my eyes wander over him. Turn it, but he was gorgeous. Cupping his face, I kissed him, tongue exploring his mouth as my hands set out to do the same; running down his chest, tracing up his sides, and coming to rest around his waist, fingers playing on the small of his back. I hardly knew where to start, I wanted a bit of everything. And then some voice in the back of my mind reminded me that I had time. That this was no one-night stand, that Peter wasn't going to walk out the door the second it was over. And that just made me kiss him more deeply. Becaus this was real.
Peter's triumphant grin was quickly erased by the feeling of Rachel nipping at his throat - god dammit, talk about finding things he liked way too quickly - and he couldn't quite stop the sound that started in his throat. She was really bad for any sort of control Peter might have had, but she was everywhere and suddenly Peter didn't really care about control.
Continuing the motion she'd started, Peter slowly backed Rachel towards the bed - slowly, because it took a bit of effort to walk and kiss at the same time, and not screw either up. As soon as the back of Rachel's knees hit the edge of the bed, Peter grasped her hips and lowered her down, nudging her until she was lying on her back. Still unable to wipe the grin off his expression, Peter rested a knee on the bed and leaned over Rachel, arms braced near her shoulders.
The grin abruptly turned into something much softer, and for a moment, Peter just looked at Rachel. He couldn't believe that this amazing woman had actually waited around for his stupid self. And he'd be eternally grateful that she had. "I am so lucky," he marveled, edging his fingers under Rachel's t-shirt to trace light designs over her stomach. He leaned down to kiss her deeply again, feeling like he couldn't get enough of this.
My eyes had blinked open again when I'd hit the bed, and my heart caught in my throat at the way Peter was looking at me. My thumb rubbed across his lower lip and I grinned. "Damn straight you are," I responded, the last words teasing out into a low whimper as his fingers touched my stomach. My muscles clenched beneath them in anticipation and I felt the first burgeoning flames of want start to edge up over my thought process.
In fact, what thought process? With Peter kissing me like that, any thought beyond him was gone completely.
Fingers fumbled slightly at his waistband, finally getting the button undone and easing his jeans down his hips, my hands running back up over the curve of his backside and then up to his shoulders. And I suddenly had a flash of thanks that I'd worn decent lingerie (which then made me laugh, because seriously, who would have thought that I'd have needed it?).
One leg hooked around Peter's hips, pulling him down to me. "I've wanted you for so long," I admitted in a husky voice, one corner of my mouth edging up. "You have no idea." And I was so going to make up for lost time. Trailing soft nips along his collarbone, soothing each mark with tongue and lips, I then started my way down his chest, leaving a heated path of bites and sucking kisses. I wanted him, all of him, and every second he was this close to me only increased that need.
None of his previous girlfriends had been biters, but Peter was quickly beginning to realize that he'd definitely been missing out, if the choked off sounds he was making was any indication. Christ, Rachel was eager, which was only fueling his own need and adding to the fire. He just hoped he lasted long enough to actually make it worth while.
Lowering himself to rest flush against Rachel, Peter braced his weight on his forearm and dipped down to suck gently at her earlobe. "Yeah? Guess I'll have to make it up to you, then," he murmured into her ear, raking his teeth along the sensitive skin. And he definitely planned on making it up to her as often and as much as he could.
Wait, Rachel still had way more clothes on than he did. This had to be remedied. Lightly licking a path down her neck, Peter edged Rachel's t-shirt up, stopping just below the swell of her breasts, and gave her a silence glance, asking permission. Okay, so she was attacking his clothes like there was no tomorrow, but he still felt the need to be a gentleman about this. Even when he was so aroused that he was on the verge of just wanting to get Rachel naked as quickly as possible.
God, that made me moan out loud, fingers clenching into his shoulders as he toyed with my earlobe. Wow, how did that get to be such a freaking turn on? "You'll have to think of something, yes," I agreed shakily, vaguely proud of myself for remembering all those words under such trying circumstances.
Yes, please, clothes, off, now. When he paused, I looked down, raising my eyebrows and laughing out loud. My fingers twined with his as I helped him push my shirt the rest of the way off. Seriously? Was he kidding me? I wanted us both naked ten minutes ago and he was getting all proper on me. "You always can take my clothes off," I breathed with a wicked smile, running fingers down, across his nipples and to circle around his belly button, sending my mouth to follow.
Every bit of skin I met was caressed, teased, tasted and tormented with increasingly hard nips and slow laps of my tongue. Every time I elicited a sound from Peter it only served to arouse me more. By the time I reached his stomach I was flushed with want that was quickly tipping over into need. Raising my mouth once again to his, I tugged on his lower lip before kissing him, hard and deep, all of that hunger translated in the movements of our lips.
Yeah, he'd have to think of something. Much later, when he could actually think and form coherent sentences in his head.
"Really?" Peter grinned, for once not ignoring the images and ideas that sprang to mind from that permission. Hey, he could turn invisible. He'd never seen what was so great about having sex it public, but he'd try anything once. Flinging Rachel's shirt onto the floor, Peter took a moment to feel grateful that Rachel had loosened his jeans, otherwise he'd be in serious restrictive pain right now. He didn't think he'd ever gotten turned on so fast.
Breathing heavily, Peter groaned quietly into the kiss, cupping her breast and teasing a nipple through her bra with her thumb. He trailed down to kiss her collarbone - taking a moment to blow his hair out of the way, stupid hair - and hooked his fingers into the waistband of Rachel's skirt, tugging it down a few inches. He paused, staring down, and plucked at one of the little bowties with a laugh. "That's unexpected," he teased, one hand wandering to unclasp Rachel's bra. "Didn't take you for a ribbons and bows kind of girl."
Neck arching slightly as my whole body moved up into his touch, I bit back a groan and nodded, grinning back. "Hell, yeah. Anytime, babe." And damn, didn't some wonderful ideas come along with that. Things we definitely needed to explore.
Rolling my eyes, I turned us quickly so I was straddling him, somehow managing to lose my skirt in the process. "I am so all about the ribbons and bows," I informed him, bending over him to leave a slow track of heated kisses down his chest. My hips moved on his, teasingly, and I gave him a wicked look. "And lace. And silk. And pretty much anything that feels nice against my skin." Then I arched my eyebrows and tugged on the waistband of his boxers with my teeth. "All this, of course, from the man with Captain Planet boxers."
My bra was slowly eased off of my shoulders, my eyes locked on Peter's as I did so. There was a sudden tightness in my throat as I looked down at him and my expression softened. "I love you," I repeated again, my hand cupping his cheek, then moving to brush back his hair. And, Turn it, I did. So much it was an actual ache with my inability to express it.
So I did what I always did. Forgot words, went straight for the actions. Again we turned so that he was on top of me; I slid my fingers underneath his boxers, wrapping around him and teasing up and down the length of him. I nuzzled into the crook of his neck, catching his skin between my teeth, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. I wanted to devour him. The softness melted into fire; the want had flamed into all-consuming need. "Peter," I managed between bites and licks and tasting his skin. I just wanted more of him - his touch, his lips on me, his body pressed against my own. I needed him in a way that drove me to delicious madness.
Responding to the sudden swell of Rachel's emotions, Peter reached to tangle their fingers together, smiling up at her. "I love you too," he replied, open and honest with his emotions in a way that he hadn't felt for the last few weeks. It felt so much better to just say it.
And then they were rolling again, and Peter had to struggle not to just fall on top of Rachel. "And don't insult the Cap," he protested with a laugh. "He's- oh, fuck," Peter cut himself off with a groan, forehead falling to rest on Rachel's chest as she stroked him. Panting against her skin, he traced a tongue over her nipple, hands sliding down her sides. Was it possible to want something too much?
Working his way down Rachel's stomach, Peter took his time, testing responses to kisses, licks and light bites. The newness of this was exciting; Peter wanted to catalog and remember everything for the later use. The way Rachel gasped when he kissed the hollow of her hip, the way she arched when he raked his teeth over the sensitive skin below her belly button. This was fun, as sex should be.
He stopped for a moment, resting his cheek on Rachel's thigh to look up at her. On a whim, he rubbed his stubble over her skin, grinning to himself. "Lace and silk, huh? I really am lucky."
Just when I thought I couldn't possibly be turned on any more, just when I was sure that the very next breath would have me flying apart, Peter would touch me just in the right spot or his teeth would catch my skin and I'd be pushed further. Whimpering, moaning, eyes having long fallen shut against the flood of sensations, I was putty in his hands. No barriers, no walls, nothing between him and me but the thin sheen of sweat that slicked our skin.
Here was the passion I'd known he had but had never thought would be directed to me. I choked out a laugh which cut off into a small, pleading noise in the back of my throat as his stubble teased against the skin of my thigh. "You so are, Petrelli," I managed thickly, looking down at him from behind hooded lids.
Then I sat up enough to hook my hand behind his head and pull him roughly back to me. He was so sexy, so amazingly hot, and I didn't think I could remember the last time I'd been this turned on. My lips clashed with his, hungrily, and I reached a hand down to ease off his boxers, nails scraping lightly down his ass. "Then again," I mumbled against his lips, "how many women get to go to bed with the Cap?"
He realized again that he'd been very stupid. Rachel had been all but throwing herself at him, just waiting for him to wake up and realize it - and he'd been too involved in own his head to reciprocate. But not anymore. This was Rachel. The same Rachel that had saved his life, risked her own for his. The same Rachel who had tolerated his awful singing in the shower, had curled up with him on the couch to watch Oprah, who'd laughed at his stupid jokes. The same Rachel who looked gorgeous even when she was bleary eyed and grumpy in the mornings, who'd tried her best. He'd been head over heels all along, he just hadn't looked deep enough to know.
Features setting in renewed determination, Peter didn't say anything; he just strode over, cupped Rachel's face in his hands, and looked at her for a moment. Then, he grinned. "Should have done this a long time ago," he confessed, leaning down to kiss her.
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But I did know that I was done.
There was nothing more to say, beyond the fact that I was sick to death of words. He said he loved me but his actions spoke louder and of something quite different. I was finished with embarrassing myself, done with trying to make sense out of everything. It was quite obvious that he didn't return my feelings and was just too damn nice to let me down. So I'd just bow out. Nothing horrible about that, really. It hadn't worked. No spark (no matter how much I had convinced myself otherwise). No shame in that. It happened.
Which meant that Peter suddenly bursting in my door, covered in paint and with an expression I'd never quite seen before on his face made me momentarily speechless. He looked... Confident. Determined.
Sexy as hell, damn him.
Brow furrowing slightly in confusion, I'd started to ask him what was going on when he was there, touching my face, saying...
Kissing me.
Oh.
For a second I froze. Not ashamed to admit it. It was all out of nowhere and I'd long stopped expecting it and, just for an instant, my brain was too busy wondering if he'd been huffing paint fumes to respond. But just for a second. Then my arms were sliding around his neck and I leaned into the kiss, returning it with an awed passion that I hadn't even realized I was holding back.
Dear God, I never thought he'd wake up.
Breaking away, shaking my head slightly, I breathed out a quiet laugh. "Hey," I murmured, giving him a crooked smile. Now, see, this was the type of greeting I could get used to. My thumb ghosted across his cheek. "You've got paint on you."
Yes, I was highly articulate when I'd just gotten a kiss that made my stomach do flip-flops. Shut up.
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And she wasn't pulling away, she'd returned the kiss, and thank god he wasn't too late. "I'm sorry," Peter pressed a light kiss to her lips. "I'll stop being so stupid." Another kiss, and Peter frowned in determination, trying to make himself stop. He had to apologize, dammit. "I'll stop getting caught up in my head, and I'm sorry for sitting on the ant so much when I could have been spending time with you, and I'm sorry for singing Journey so loud in the shower." Okay, the latter probably didn't need to be apologized for, but everything was just sort of coming out in one big rush.
He made himself pause, lightly stroking Rachel's cheekbone. "I'm sorry for a lot of things. But I love you, so much, and it took me way too long to do something about that. I'm not too late, am I?"
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It was... Yeah, there really weren't words. So I fisted my hands in his shirt and tugged him back into me, kissing him eagerly, letting my eyes fall close and my entire being melt into him.
This was what I'd wanted and never thought I'd get. But he was here, in front of me, saying these things I'd given up on hearing and all I could think was 'Please, God, don't let me mess this up'. He loved me. He loved me and he was kissing me and my heart was going a thousand miles an hour as I tried to wrap my mind around it. I didn't deserve him. That was achingly clear. But he was here and I wasn't going to question it.
My palms slid up his chest and back around his neck, fingers twining in his hair and we kissed until I had to break away, breathing ragged and eyes shining. Scattering quick hop-skip kisses along his jaw, I murmured, "And I like you singing Journey in the shower."
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An odd expression crossed his face at the revelation that she liked his singing of Journey; somewhere between glee and hope and embarrassment. She couldn't really, his singing scared off screeching cats, but it was the sentiment that mattered. Grinning, and biting down lightly on Rachel's lower lip before he pulled away, Peter laughed quietly. He ran his hands down her back, hooking his thumbs into the break between shirt and skirt, tracing lightly over the warm skin in the small of her back. He really had waited too long for this.
"I can keep apologizing, but something tells me you know it already," he murmured, ducking his head to trail a line of kisses along the curve of her neck.
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It'd been so long. And I'd wanted this for what literally felt like forever. My fingers traced a path down the back of Peter's neck, fingernails lightly scratching the skin. An, "I love you," was murmured before I lowered my lips to his in a brief, firm kiss, letting my mouth trail off to explore along his jaw, my tongue tasting the skin just under his ear. Every bit of him that I'd been longing to touch and taste and feel and experience was suddenly open to me and I wanted to spend days on every inch of skin, learning every line and secret place, finding all the things that made him gasp and moan.
Sliding my hands down, I pushed fingers under his shirt to run them along Peter's stomach. "Have you ever had sex with a witch before?" I asked, hiding a laugh in the crook of his neck. "Because if not, I'm warning you. It might be slightly different than what you're used to."
Wait. What if that wasn't where he was going? What if he was still unsure, what if this was just something he'd done to try and appease me? Eyes flashing into worry, I pulled back slightly, looking up at him. "I mean... Not that we have to--" Oh, God, I'd messed up. World record to me. "If you don't... Obviously I do, but I don't want to--" Wincing, I shook my head, moving to step back from him. "Sorry," I muttered, suddenly interested in staring at my nails.
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Peter could be accused of falling in love far too often, but most of those times it hadn't been like this. Rachel felt for him as strongly as he felt for her, he could feel it in her emotions like a gentle lap of water against his mind. And he was the one making her feel like this? It was amazing enough that he could even share in that, let alone feel it. Empathy could be a wonderful thing sometimes.
But god, it was getting really hard to think right now. Especially when Rachel's tongue was on that sensitive spot just under his ear, and thoughts weren't really important, were they? He hoped not, because he was far more fascinating with brushing his fingers against the base of Rachel's spine, leaning into her touch and kissing her as intently as he could manage while being distracted with how overwhelmingly good this felt.
Wait, where was she going? Confusion flew across Peter's expression for a moment, before he realized - oh, no, she was just concerned that she was being too forward. Hands still on her back, Peter pulled Rachel back up against him, a crooked grin lurking at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, you're not going anywhere," he commanded playfully. With a glance across at the door, he mentally nudged it into closing and locking - precision training with telekinesis really came in handy sometimes. "I want to find out what sex with a witch is like," his grin turned a shade wicked. "You can't back out now, after telling me that."
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His touch on my back made me shiver and I breathed out a shaky little growl of frustration as the collar of his shirt stopped my mouth from dipping lower. Well, that needed to change. Pulling on the hem of his shirt, I laughed, "Off," tugging it up and over his head.
Wow. Just...yeah. I'd seen him without his shirt before, but not like this, and for a moment I just let my eyes wander over him. Turn it, but he was gorgeous. Cupping his face, I kissed him, tongue exploring his mouth as my hands set out to do the same; running down his chest, tracing up his sides, and coming to rest around his waist, fingers playing on the small of his back. I hardly knew where to start, I wanted a bit of everything. And then some voice in the back of my mind reminded me that I had time. That this was no one-night stand, that Peter wasn't going to walk out the door the second it was over. And that just made me kiss him more deeply. Becaus this was real.
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Continuing the motion she'd started, Peter slowly backed Rachel towards the bed - slowly, because it took a bit of effort to walk and kiss at the same time, and not screw either up. As soon as the back of Rachel's knees hit the edge of the bed, Peter grasped her hips and lowered her down, nudging her until she was lying on her back. Still unable to wipe the grin off his expression, Peter rested a knee on the bed and leaned over Rachel, arms braced near her shoulders.
The grin abruptly turned into something much softer, and for a moment, Peter just looked at Rachel. He couldn't believe that this amazing woman had actually waited around for his stupid self. And he'd be eternally grateful that she had. "I am so lucky," he marveled, edging his fingers under Rachel's t-shirt to trace light designs over her stomach. He leaned down to kiss her deeply again, feeling like he couldn't get enough of this.
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In fact, what thought process? With Peter kissing me like that, any thought beyond him was gone completely.
Fingers fumbled slightly at his waistband, finally getting the button undone and easing his jeans down his hips, my hands running back up over the curve of his backside and then up to his shoulders. And I suddenly had a flash of thanks that I'd worn decent lingerie (which then made me laugh, because seriously, who would have thought that I'd have needed it?).
One leg hooked around Peter's hips, pulling him down to me. "I've wanted you for so long," I admitted in a husky voice, one corner of my mouth edging up. "You have no idea." And I was so going to make up for lost time. Trailing soft nips along his collarbone, soothing each mark with tongue and lips, I then started my way down his chest, leaving a heated path of bites and sucking kisses. I wanted him, all of him, and every second he was this close to me only increased that need.
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Lowering himself to rest flush against Rachel, Peter braced his weight on his forearm and dipped down to suck gently at her earlobe. "Yeah? Guess I'll have to make it up to you, then," he murmured into her ear, raking his teeth along the sensitive skin. And he definitely planned on making it up to her as often and as much as he could.
Wait, Rachel still had way more clothes on than he did. This had to be remedied. Lightly licking a path down her neck, Peter edged Rachel's t-shirt up, stopping just below the swell of her breasts, and gave her a silence glance, asking permission. Okay, so she was attacking his clothes like there was no tomorrow, but he still felt the need to be a gentleman about this. Even when he was so aroused that he was on the verge of just wanting to get Rachel naked as quickly as possible.
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Yes, please, clothes, off, now. When he paused, I looked down, raising my eyebrows and laughing out loud. My fingers twined with his as I helped him push my shirt the rest of the way off. Seriously? Was he kidding me? I wanted us both naked ten minutes ago and he was getting all proper on me. "You always can take my clothes off," I breathed with a wicked smile, running fingers down, across his nipples and to circle around his belly button, sending my mouth to follow.
Every bit of skin I met was caressed, teased, tasted and tormented with increasingly hard nips and slow laps of my tongue. Every time I elicited a sound from Peter it only served to arouse me more. By the time I reached his stomach I was flushed with want that was quickly tipping over into need. Raising my mouth once again to his, I tugged on his lower lip before kissing him, hard and deep, all of that hunger translated in the movements of our lips.
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"Really?" Peter grinned, for once not ignoring the images and ideas that sprang to mind from that permission. Hey, he could turn invisible. He'd never seen what was so great about having sex it public, but he'd try anything once. Flinging Rachel's shirt onto the floor, Peter took a moment to feel grateful that Rachel had loosened his jeans, otherwise he'd be in serious restrictive pain right now. He didn't think he'd ever gotten turned on so fast.
Breathing heavily, Peter groaned quietly into the kiss, cupping her breast and teasing a nipple through her bra with her thumb. He trailed down to kiss her collarbone - taking a moment to blow his hair out of the way, stupid hair - and hooked his fingers into the waistband of Rachel's skirt, tugging it down a few inches. He paused, staring down, and plucked at one of the little bowties with a laugh. "That's unexpected," he teased, one hand wandering to unclasp Rachel's bra. "Didn't take you for a ribbons and bows kind of girl."
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Rolling my eyes, I turned us quickly so I was straddling him, somehow managing to lose my skirt in the process. "I am so all about the ribbons and bows," I informed him, bending over him to leave a slow track of heated kisses down his chest. My hips moved on his, teasingly, and I gave him a wicked look. "And lace. And silk. And pretty much anything that feels nice against my skin." Then I arched my eyebrows and tugged on the waistband of his boxers with my teeth. "All this, of course, from the man with Captain Planet boxers."
My bra was slowly eased off of my shoulders, my eyes locked on Peter's as I did so. There was a sudden tightness in my throat as I looked down at him and my expression softened. "I love you," I repeated again, my hand cupping his cheek, then moving to brush back his hair. And, Turn it, I did. So much it was an actual ache with my inability to express it.
So I did what I always did. Forgot words, went straight for the actions. Again we turned so that he was on top of me; I slid my fingers underneath his boxers, wrapping around him and teasing up and down the length of him. I nuzzled into the crook of his neck, catching his skin between my teeth, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. I wanted to devour him. The softness melted into fire; the want had flamed into all-consuming need. "Peter," I managed between bites and licks and tasting his skin. I just wanted more of him - his touch, his lips on me, his body pressed against my own. I needed him in a way that drove me to delicious madness.
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And then they were rolling again, and Peter had to struggle not to just fall on top of Rachel. "And don't insult the Cap," he protested with a laugh. "He's- oh, fuck," Peter cut himself off with a groan, forehead falling to rest on Rachel's chest as she stroked him. Panting against her skin, he traced a tongue over her nipple, hands sliding down her sides. Was it possible to want something too much?
Working his way down Rachel's stomach, Peter took his time, testing responses to kisses, licks and light bites. The newness of this was exciting; Peter wanted to catalog and remember everything for the later use. The way Rachel gasped when he kissed the hollow of her hip, the way she arched when he raked his teeth over the sensitive skin below her belly button. This was fun, as sex should be.
He stopped for a moment, resting his cheek on Rachel's thigh to look up at her. On a whim, he rubbed his stubble over her skin, grinning to himself. "Lace and silk, huh? I really am lucky."
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Here was the passion I'd known he had but had never thought would be directed to me. I choked out a laugh which cut off into a small, pleading noise in the back of my throat as his stubble teased against the skin of my thigh. "You so are, Petrelli," I managed thickly, looking down at him from behind hooded lids.
Then I sat up enough to hook my hand behind his head and pull him roughly back to me. He was so sexy, so amazingly hot, and I didn't think I could remember the last time I'd been this turned on. My lips clashed with his, hungrily, and I reached a hand down to ease off his boxers, nails scraping lightly down his ass. "Then again," I mumbled against his lips, "how many women get to go to bed with the Cap?"
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