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?"
Peter's sound of protest was quickly cut off by Rachel's kiss - he'd had things he'd wanted to do while he was down there, dammit - and turned into a sigh of a moan at the feeling of her nails against his skin. Christ, just when he thought he couldn't get any more turned on.
Her words prompted a surprised laugh, and Peter chuckled against Rachel's lips, nose nudging into her cheek. "So you're the Cap now, huh? Guess I can't complain too much," he grinned playfully. He shifted down to lick a meandering line across the underside of her breast, fingertips teasing at the opposite nipple.
Yeah, he really had been stupid to avoid this for so long. And it was unexpected - though certainly a good thing - to be able to bring empathic abilities into play, to know when something really pleased Rachel or what emotions certain things would generate.
"Mmm," I nodded, grinning, head falling back. Wow, words were hard when Peter was paying attention to my breasts. Nonexistent, really. His name was gasped out as his fingers brushed my nipple and my back arched up into him.
His boxers were finally removed and once more my hand found him, easing along in long, slow strokes. I was all instinct, now, my brain unable to process anything further than the heat coiling in my belly, than my driving need for Peter to be closer.
This was incredible. Every movement only served to turn me on more, every emotion felt heightened. I didn't know if was the waiting that made it so good, or if it was Peter, or if this was some byproduct of sleeping with an empath; in any case, it was amazing and I was more than vocal about my pleasure.
Breathing out a shuddery sigh as Rachel's fingers curled around him again, Peter kissed his way along the line of her collarbone, eyes closed as he tried to keep some semblance of control. He was quickly growing addicted to how responsive Rachel was to everything, especially when he hit the right places. Then again, he should have known she'd be passionate in bed, if the rest of her was anything to go by.
Sitting up slightly, Peter hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear - taking a moment to grin once again at the bow-ties - and slid them off easily, throwing them over his shoulder. He shuffled back a little so that he could run his fingers up her legs, paying attention to the undersides of her knees and inner thighs.
"You really have amazing legs," he noted, kissing his way from her knee to her hip. It immediately prompted some rather graphic images of what her legs would look like wrapped around him, and Peter silenced whatever sound he might have made by leaning up to kiss Rachel again. He couldn't help being a bit of a talker in bed.
A slow smile, liquid smooth, eased across my face. It's not that I wasn't used to guys paying me compliments in bed - one of the only places I did get them, actually - but Peter's were just so... Different. No so much earnest as truthful, as if he'd say them whether or not he was currently naked with me.
And that was quite literally all the consideration I could give that at the moment. He was driving me wild and I moved under him, my hips automatically rolling upwards to meet his. "Please," I breathed in a shaky moan. Not sure how much longer I could take this. "Peter." His voice was a little plea and once more my back arched up, my leg sliding along the back of his.
"God, you're so sexy." The words were a babble, some noise I needed to make to express my approval. "Want you so bad." Fully turned on, now, all I knew was that my body was demanding something - friction, pressure, heat, some kind of release. And I wanted it now. Digging nails into his shoulders, I kissed him back, tongue plunging into his mouth, skin pressed to skin.
Smiling into the kiss, Peter grasped Rachel's hips and pressing down lightly, pinning her to the bed. Concentrating fully on her pleasure rather than his own gained him a measure of self-control that he was quite intent on using to draw this out.
"What, no foreplay?" Peter teased, gently scraping his teeth down Rachel's breast and over her nipple. "I was just getting started." But he'd be more than happy to oblige if Rachel wanted him now. Still, he couldn't resist a little teasing. He leaned up again to ghost his lips over her ear, speaking lowly. "Tell me what you want."
Shuddering slightly with repressed desire, I sighed, "You." I was no good at denying myself in the best of circumstances. Peter naked above me? Yeah, I wanted it now.
Besides... "And then I want you in this bed for several days," I told him, eyes blinking open to meet him. "I want to find every single way possible to make you shout my name." I lifted my head up to nip at his earlobe. "I want us both aching and exhausted and satisfied, and then I want to start up again the next hour." I grinned, murmuring, "Aren't you glad you asked?"
See! I could plan! That was a great plan.
Running my hands up his arms, I plunged my fingers into his hair, gasping as he teased against my nipple again. "And more of that," I added in a low moan. "Definitely more of that." I should keep a list.
Peter stared at Rachel for a few seconds, his features falling slack in surprise. Jesus... christ. A wave of arousal hit him so hard that he exhaled a sharp breath, almost a gasp of surprise. "You're going to kill me." He grinned crookedly. "Good thing I can heal," he added thoughtfully.
Oh yes, he was very glad he'd asked.
But thoughts of marathons of sex and possibly dying from dehydration could be put aside, because Peter had much more important things to do. 'More of that'? He could definitely do. So he worked his way downwards again, nudging her legs further apart and settling in between them. He kissed Rachel's hip, thighs, sliding his hands underneath her to tilt her hips up, and licked a long line up to her clit before sucking gently on it. Totally his favorite activity during sex, just because of the way women reacted.
"Killed by sex," I chuckled. "Must be every guy's dre-" and the rest of that was cut off by a sharp gasp as my entire body stiffened. Holy shit.
My head was pressed back against the mattress, eyes shut tightly and fingers grabbing at sheets. "Peter." That was a shout, a moan, a whimpered plea, all tangled up together and lost halfway out of my throat. I had to actively force my hips not to jerk upward; a rumble of pleasure started low in my chest and seemed to spread through my whole body.
It had literally been years since anyone had done that and I couldn't help my reactions. Which were loud. And definitely in the affirmative category. "Oh, God, yes, please." I tended to get to a place of arousal where I just babbled, throwing out strings of words in a simple, primal need to vocalize. I was there now. His name was whimpered out again, my fingers clasping so tightly to the sheets that my knuckles were white.
Had he heard Rachel's thoughts, Peter would have agreed with that last thought. Weeks in bed, he could totally do.
Glancing up to watch Rachel's reaction, he felt an odd swell of emotions; somewhere between pride, affection, love, pleasure that he could do this for her. The noises she was making was sending any blood he might have otherwise had left directly south, though. With an amused huff, he noted their combined sweat had melted the paint off his hands, leaving odd streaks of blue and red on Rachel's hips. It was oddly sexy.
Peter stopped as soon as he felt Rachel tensing up, and moved upwards to kiss her jaw, thumb occasionally flicking across her clit. "Love you," he repeated into her jaw. "Don't think I can say it enough."
"You can try," I murmured back, lips curving up slightly. God knows I was going to. I was going to wear that phrase right into the ground with how much I would to try and express it, how many ways I was going to attempt to show him.
Even the slight movements of his thumb were sending shocks through me. God, if he didn't do something soon, I was going to go crazy. "Need you," I told him, turning my head to find his lips. "Now, Peter, please." My toes were curled, my entire body tense and coiled, that warmth in my belly now churning through me and demanding release.
His arms were still streaked with paint, leaving him with random tattoos of color that were attractive as hell. "God, you're so gorgeous," I groaned, tracing my finger across his lips and down to tease along one nipple. I couldn't think of anyone else in the world I'd rather be with, could not think of a single thing that I lacked in that moment. I had Peter; finally, really, wholly had him. And I had no intention of doing anything but enjoying that for as long as I could.
Try, Peter definitely would. He'd probably be including it in random sentences for the next week. 'Where's my shirt, oh, and I love you.' 'I'll cook breakfast - I love you!' Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.
And when Rachel next spoke, Peter didn't think he'd be able to find it within himself to resist. He'd been ignoring his own arousal, but now it came flooding back, shortening his breath to sharp pants. "Hell yes," he agreed breathlessly, arching into Rachel's touch. "Definitely now."
Then, he hesitated slightly, one hand grasping at her hip. Wait, think, Petrelli. Christ, thinking about safe sex in the middle of sex got to be really inconvenient. Still, it didn't dull his arousal any, which was good. But he had to check. Raising himself up slightly, he tipped an eyebrow at Rachel, silently questioning.
Shaking my head at him, I said, "Can't get me... You're human..." God, I couldn't form a complete sentence to save my life.
And then the sentences stopped because I remembered that Peter had absorbed something from me, letting him invoke amulets. Who knew what else that meant?
Which all lead to the conclusion that my natural birth control could be shot to hell. And it'd been so long since I'd needed them that I didn't even have any condoms anymore. "Fuck," I breathed out, head thumping back onto the bed. "I swear to God, Petrelli, if one of your powers isn't instantaneous spermicide, I am going to kill someone."
Which probably wasn't the sexiest sentence I'd ever uttered during sex, but I was slightly frustrated.
Expression frozen on his face, Peter blinked, silent for a few long moments. 'Instantaneous spermicide'? Seriously? That... had to be one of the weirdest things he'd ever heard during sex.
He snorted, and then laughed suddenly, burying his face in Rachel's neck, shoulders shaking in laughter. His mood wasn't killed in the slightest, but god, that was hilarious. "Oh my god," he chuckled. "I'm remembering that one. And really wishing I had that ability."
Propping himself up, Peter held out a hand and managed to gather enough concentration to fly his pants into his grasp. Good thing he'd come prepared. Throwing his pants back to the floor, tore open the packet with his teeth and rolled the condom on as quickly as he could. He was impatient. Grinning, Peter ducked down to pay attention to Rachel's earlobe again. "Hope that little detour didn't spoil the mood."
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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Her words prompted a surprised laugh, and Peter chuckled against Rachel's lips, nose nudging into her cheek. "So you're the Cap now, huh? Guess I can't complain too much," he grinned playfully. He shifted down to lick a meandering line across the underside of her breast, fingertips teasing at the opposite nipple.
Yeah, he really had been stupid to avoid this for so long. And it was unexpected - though certainly a good thing - to be able to bring empathic abilities into play, to know when something really pleased Rachel or what emotions certain things would generate.
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His boxers were finally removed and once more my hand found him, easing along in long, slow strokes. I was all instinct, now, my brain unable to process anything further than the heat coiling in my belly, than my driving need for Peter to be closer.
This was incredible. Every movement only served to turn me on more, every emotion felt heightened. I didn't know if was the waiting that made it so good, or if it was Peter, or if this was some byproduct of sleeping with an empath; in any case, it was amazing and I was more than vocal about my pleasure.
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Sitting up slightly, Peter hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear - taking a moment to grin once again at the bow-ties - and slid them off easily, throwing them over his shoulder. He shuffled back a little so that he could run his fingers up her legs, paying attention to the undersides of her knees and inner thighs.
"You really have amazing legs," he noted, kissing his way from her knee to her hip. It immediately prompted some rather graphic images of what her legs would look like wrapped around him, and Peter silenced whatever sound he might have made by leaning up to kiss Rachel again. He couldn't help being a bit of a talker in bed.
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And that was quite literally all the consideration I could give that at the moment. He was driving me wild and I moved under him, my hips automatically rolling upwards to meet his. "Please," I breathed in a shaky moan. Not sure how much longer I could take this. "Peter." His voice was a little plea and once more my back arched up, my leg sliding along the back of his.
"God, you're so sexy." The words were a babble, some noise I needed to make to express my approval. "Want you so bad." Fully turned on, now, all I knew was that my body was demanding something - friction, pressure, heat, some kind of release. And I wanted it now. Digging nails into his shoulders, I kissed him back, tongue plunging into his mouth, skin pressed to skin.
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"What, no foreplay?" Peter teased, gently scraping his teeth down Rachel's breast and over her nipple. "I was just getting started." But he'd be more than happy to oblige if Rachel wanted him now. Still, he couldn't resist a little teasing. He leaned up again to ghost his lips over her ear, speaking lowly. "Tell me what you want."
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Besides... "And then I want you in this bed for several days," I told him, eyes blinking open to meet him. "I want to find every single way possible to make you shout my name." I lifted my head up to nip at his earlobe. "I want us both aching and exhausted and satisfied, and then I want to start up again the next hour." I grinned, murmuring, "Aren't you glad you asked?"
See! I could plan! That was a great plan.
Running my hands up his arms, I plunged my fingers into his hair, gasping as he teased against my nipple again. "And more of that," I added in a low moan. "Definitely more of that." I should keep a list.
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Oh yes, he was very glad he'd asked.
But thoughts of marathons of sex and possibly dying from dehydration could be put aside, because Peter had much more important things to do. 'More of that'? He could definitely do. So he worked his way downwards again, nudging her legs further apart and settling in between them. He kissed Rachel's hip, thighs, sliding his hands underneath her to tilt her hips up, and licked a long line up to her clit before sucking gently on it. Totally his favorite activity during sex, just because of the way women reacted.
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My head was pressed back against the mattress, eyes shut tightly and fingers grabbing at sheets. "Peter." That was a shout, a moan, a whimpered plea, all tangled up together and lost halfway out of my throat. I had to actively force my hips not to jerk upward; a rumble of pleasure started low in my chest and seemed to spread through my whole body.
It had literally been years since anyone had done that and I couldn't help my reactions. Which were loud. And definitely in the affirmative category. "Oh, God, yes, please." I tended to get to a place of arousal where I just babbled, throwing out strings of words in a simple, primal need to vocalize. I was there now. His name was whimpered out again, my fingers clasping so tightly to the sheets that my knuckles were white.
Oh, God, make that weeks. Weeks in this bed.
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Glancing up to watch Rachel's reaction, he felt an odd swell of emotions; somewhere between pride, affection, love, pleasure that he could do this for her. The noises she was making was sending any blood he might have otherwise had left directly south, though. With an amused huff, he noted their combined sweat had melted the paint off his hands, leaving odd streaks of blue and red on Rachel's hips. It was oddly sexy.
Peter stopped as soon as he felt Rachel tensing up, and moved upwards to kiss her jaw, thumb occasionally flicking across her clit. "Love you," he repeated into her jaw. "Don't think I can say it enough."
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Even the slight movements of his thumb were sending shocks through me. God, if he didn't do something soon, I was going to go crazy. "Need you," I told him, turning my head to find his lips. "Now, Peter, please." My toes were curled, my entire body tense and coiled, that warmth in my belly now churning through me and demanding release.
His arms were still streaked with paint, leaving him with random tattoos of color that were attractive as hell. "God, you're so gorgeous," I groaned, tracing my finger across his lips and down to tease along one nipple. I couldn't think of anyone else in the world I'd rather be with, could not think of a single thing that I lacked in that moment. I had Peter; finally, really, wholly had him. And I had no intention of doing anything but enjoying that for as long as I could.
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And when Rachel next spoke, Peter didn't think he'd be able to find it within himself to resist. He'd been ignoring his own arousal, but now it came flooding back, shortening his breath to sharp pants. "Hell yes," he agreed breathlessly, arching into Rachel's touch. "Definitely now."
Then, he hesitated slightly, one hand grasping at her hip. Wait, think, Petrelli. Christ, thinking about safe sex in the middle of sex got to be really inconvenient. Still, it didn't dull his arousal any, which was good. But he had to check. Raising himself up slightly, he tipped an eyebrow at Rachel, silently questioning.
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And then the sentences stopped because I remembered that Peter had absorbed something from me, letting him invoke amulets. Who knew what else that meant?
Which all lead to the conclusion that my natural birth control could be shot to hell. And it'd been so long since I'd needed them that I didn't even have any condoms anymore. "Fuck," I breathed out, head thumping back onto the bed. "I swear to God, Petrelli, if one of your powers isn't instantaneous spermicide, I am going to kill someone."
Which probably wasn't the sexiest sentence I'd ever uttered during sex, but I was slightly frustrated.
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He snorted, and then laughed suddenly, burying his face in Rachel's neck, shoulders shaking in laughter. His mood wasn't killed in the slightest, but god, that was hilarious. "Oh my god," he chuckled. "I'm remembering that one. And really wishing I had that ability."
Propping himself up, Peter held out a hand and managed to gather enough concentration to fly his pants into his grasp. Good thing he'd come prepared. Throwing his pants back to the floor, tore open the packet with his teeth and rolled the condom on as quickly as he could. He was impatient. Grinning, Peter ducked down to pay attention to Rachel's earlobe again. "Hope that little detour didn't spoil the mood."
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