My hand had moved to cup his chin, thumb stroking along his cheek as he talked. Other than my eyes going slightly wide at 'prophetic dreams' (and slightly wider at 'take out half of New York') I just let him go on without interrupting.
Returning his kiss, I let my brain rush over everything he'd told me. Then, smiling, I said, "Okay." And it was. What he'd done, while it had driven me crazy and brought me no end of heartache as I'd tried desperately to figure out what he was feeling and what I was feeling and whether those two things connected (and whether they should), was understandable. I'd done the same thing before - hell, I'd done the same thing to him. I got running away. I got distancing myself.
A few things did need to be cleared up, though. "You help me," I told him frankly, love quite evident in my voice. "Every day. You're never going to quite get how much, Peter." I pressed a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. "But you do."
I was pretty certain he didn't get how messed up I was. How things from my
( ... )
Fortunately enough (and Peter wasn't entirely sure how he did it), he managed to keep a hold on the ability - even while his mind was busy melting down and rapidly losing all ability of coherent thought. Instincts were a wonderful thing.
Kissing was starting to get difficult, so Peter settled for peppering kisses over Rachel's throat, collarbone, the curve of her shoulder. Fulfilling her pleas for more, Peter pressed in yet closer, banging her hips against the wall with every thrust. Not hard, but definitely forceful, and he couldn't help himself, not with the emotions relating to the super strength in the back of his mind. He'd apologize to Rachel later, even if she liked it.
Trying desperately to make sure Rachel got there before he did, Peter gasped random words into her shoulder - endearments, pleas, curses. He could barely even feel the water anymore, his entire focus and concentration was zoomed in on Rachel.
There wasn't anything in the world besides just where Peter and I were joined, the feeling of him pressing into me and driving me closer to the edge. My body jarred back into the wall with every motion and it was the forceful aggressiveness combined with the unbelievably intense pleasure of what Peter as doing to my body that finally pulled me under.
I couldn't even shout, the wave of sensation was so intense; my head fell forward with a tiny gasp as my entire body clenched and shuddered. I was certain I was simply going to fly to pieces, right then. My nails bit into Peter's skin as I rode it out, helpless to do anything but. Not that I'd want to. My mind was white noise, my body completely undone. It was amazing
( ... )
It was one thing that Peter was beginning to learn about being empath - if he didn't close his mind off, it was virtually impossible not to share in the sensations that Rachel was feeling. Not physical, but mental, and his mind went blank seconds after Rachel's did, gasping for breath into Rachel's neck at the peak and overload of ecstasy.
"Fuck," he agreed, frankly surprised that he hadn't fallen over. Peter gently lowered Rachel down until her feet were touching the floor of the shower again, but he kept a firm hold around her waist. The water hadn't gone cold, so he reached up and twisted the shower head, directing it to spray down on them so they didn't have to move from the wall.
Still getting his breath back, Peter carded his fingers through Rachel's wet hair. "We should try for a world record," he commented, a hint of a smile lurking in his voice.
Again I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning against him, forehead tucked under his chin. "Mmm, I definitely think we should give it a try," I agreed with a smile, eyes closing as I nuzzled into him.
His fingers in my hair made me give a soft noise of pleasure, all the encouragement I could muster at the moment. I was just amazed I was still standing - after that, I couldn't believe my legs hadn't melted. The steam rising from the shower gave everything a kind of hazy, heavy feel and I relaxed into it. God, that had been good.
"The paint's all gone," I murmured with another smile. Hey, look! We'd gotten clean after all!
Then, raising my head to kiss him, I added, "And I'm starving." What? I'd worked up an appetite. "Someone barged into my room and stopped me from getting lunch." From the way I was trailing slow kisses along his jaw and the smile I hid in the skin just under his ear, it was pretty damn clear that I did not mind one bit.
Grabbing the shampoo and tipping a copious amount into his hands, Peter returned to threading his fingers through Rachel's hair, working the shampoo in. He breathed in deeply, taking a moment to just enjoy the scent and the feel of Rachel's hair.
Huh, and the paint was gone. Mission accomplished after all.
"Not surprised," Peter replied, lips curling into a grin. "Showering can be strenuous." And yes, he had interrupted Rachel's normal lunch time, so he reminded himself to order some food when they were dry again. Hopefully he'd remember to put some clothes on so he didn't freak out the poor house elf.
Washing the remaining shampoo off his hands, Peter guided Rachel under the spray, carefully washing the shampoo out of hair and cupping his hands over her forehead so nothing ran into her eyes. He'd only done it once, but he was beginning to love washing Rachel's hair. It was something he'd always enjoyed; just a simple, relaxing, intimate gesture.
I murmured a sound of approval at Peter's administrations, leaning slightly into his touch and letting my eyes fall closed. God, that felt so good. I got lost in the feel of his hands through my hair, only responding to his words with a crooked smile
( ... )
Returning his kiss, I let my brain rush over everything he'd told me. Then, smiling, I said, "Okay." And it was. What he'd done, while it had driven me crazy and brought me no end of heartache as I'd tried desperately to figure out what he was feeling and what I was feeling and whether those two things connected (and whether they should), was understandable. I'd done the same thing before - hell, I'd done the same thing to him. I got running away. I got distancing myself.
A few things did need to be cleared up, though. "You help me," I told him frankly, love quite evident in my voice. "Every day. You're never going to quite get how much, Peter." I pressed a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. "But you do."
I was pretty certain he didn't get how messed up I was. How things from my ( ... )
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Kissing was starting to get difficult, so Peter settled for peppering kisses over Rachel's throat, collarbone, the curve of her shoulder. Fulfilling her pleas for more, Peter pressed in yet closer, banging her hips against the wall with every thrust. Not hard, but definitely forceful, and he couldn't help himself, not with the emotions relating to the super strength in the back of his mind. He'd apologize to Rachel later, even if she liked it.
Trying desperately to make sure Rachel got there before he did, Peter gasped random words into her shoulder - endearments, pleas, curses. He could barely even feel the water anymore, his entire focus and concentration was zoomed in on Rachel.
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I couldn't even shout, the wave of sensation was so intense; my head fell forward with a tiny gasp as my entire body clenched and shuddered. I was certain I was simply going to fly to pieces, right then. My nails bit into Peter's skin as I rode it out, helpless to do anything but. Not that I'd want to. My mind was white noise, my body completely undone. It was amazing ( ... )
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"Fuck," he agreed, frankly surprised that he hadn't fallen over. Peter gently lowered Rachel down until her feet were touching the floor of the shower again, but he kept a firm hold around her waist. The water hadn't gone cold, so he reached up and twisted the shower head, directing it to spray down on them so they didn't have to move from the wall.
Still getting his breath back, Peter carded his fingers through Rachel's wet hair. "We should try for a world record," he commented, a hint of a smile lurking in his voice.
Reply
His fingers in my hair made me give a soft noise of pleasure, all the encouragement I could muster at the moment. I was just amazed I was still standing - after that, I couldn't believe my legs hadn't melted. The steam rising from the shower gave everything a kind of hazy, heavy feel and I relaxed into it. God, that had been good.
"The paint's all gone," I murmured with another smile. Hey, look! We'd gotten clean after all!
Then, raising my head to kiss him, I added, "And I'm starving." What? I'd worked up an appetite. "Someone barged into my room and stopped me from getting lunch." From the way I was trailing slow kisses along his jaw and the smile I hid in the skin just under his ear, it was pretty damn clear that I did not mind one bit.
Reply
Huh, and the paint was gone. Mission accomplished after all.
"Not surprised," Peter replied, lips curling into a grin. "Showering can be strenuous." And yes, he had interrupted Rachel's normal lunch time, so he reminded himself to order some food when they were dry again. Hopefully he'd remember to put some clothes on so he didn't freak out the poor house elf.
Washing the remaining shampoo off his hands, Peter guided Rachel under the spray, carefully washing the shampoo out of hair and cupping his hands over her forehead so nothing ran into her eyes. He'd only done it once, but he was beginning to love washing Rachel's hair. It was something he'd always enjoyed; just a simple, relaxing, intimate gesture.
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