A Secret Thing, 2/2
Chapter One | Chapter Two
Rose stretched, her hand reaching for the space where Peter should be. Her hand found only empty space, and she blearily opened her eyes, looking for him.
He’d opened the curtains at some point while she was still asleep and she groaned, rolling away from the window. She just wanted to sleep in, to cuddle with Peter; he, uncharacteristically, was already up and about somewhere.
He’d not told her why he’d been in Scotland, and she’d trusted him, figuring he’d tell her if it was important-but he’d been distracted during their dinner last night, had been lost in thought as they lay together, falling asleep. Now he was up early where usually he would have stayed in bed for a snuggle; she wondered if he’d slept at all, and she found herself growing worried. If things weren’t going well up in Kendal, would he tell her? Would he try to put a brave face on, try to keep from worrying her? He still was reluctant to confide in anyone, and while she’d never force his confidence she would want to know if there was anything she could do to help, to ease whatever might be worrying him.
She moved to sit, running her hand through her hair, forcing herself to open her eyes and wake up properly. She gave her head a quick shake, trying to clear it, to focus, and paused as she heard a door opening.
She could hear the soft sound of bare feet padding on her wooden floor, and she watched Peter walk into the room, hair wet, a towel draped around his hips. She felt heat wash through her as he met her eye, and she was surprised when he ducked hid head in embarrassment.
“Sorry, I…thought you were still asleep.”
“I’m awake.” She willed him to come closer, wanted to run her hands over his skin, wanted to simply inhale the scent of him, freshly showered.
“I can see that.” His voice held a light hint of wryness, and the corner of his mouth curved upwards.
“And you’re freshly showered.” She rocked forward, shifting to her knees and crawling out from under the covers, moving to the foot of the bed and sitting there, waiting for Peter to move towards the wardrobe. He crossed over, moving slowly towards her, stopping just out of her reach. As the air shifted, she caught scent of a brief, teasing hint of soap; the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement as he watched her.
“Indeed I am.” He danced backwards, away from her reaching hands. “And if I’d known you’d be so frisky, I’d have waited for you.”
“If I’d known you were going to take a shower first thing, I’d have made sure to wake up.” She pulled her eyes away from his torso, back up to his face, and something occurred to her. “You’ve not shaved.”
He rubbed his hand over his chin, an expression of surprise crossing his face. “You’re quite right. I knew I’d forgot something this morning...” He turned, teasing, threatening to walk back to the en-suite, a grin overspreading his face.
Rose lunged forward, standing, grabbing at him, her hands finding his waist and stilling his movement. He turned to face her without hesitation, closing the distance between them, a smile still on his lips. “Or perhaps not?”
“Definitely not,” Rose replied, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss against his jaw. His skin was soft and warm beneath her hands, the muscles twitching as she slid her palms over his ribs, along his back. He brought his hands together behind her back, his arms resting lightly around her waist, and he brushed a kiss against her temple.
“Well, then...”
She began to drift her lips across his skin, inhaling deeply as she went, her eyes fluttering shut as she savoured simply standing with him, knowing he was there, that he’d be there for the next morning as well. She loved the smell of her soap on his skin, and rested her cheek against his chest, simply breathing in his scent.
He seemed happy enough, this morning; perhaps whatever had been bothering him the night before had...what? Gone away? Been resolved? The thoughts chased round her head as he gently rocked her side-to-side, simply holding her in the quiet of her bedroom. His hand was drifting lightly up and down her back-a sure sign his mind was busy processing something. She drifted a hand up his spine, contemplating whether to ask him what had happened in Scotland-or to make him go there-and trying to decide how long to wait before asking if there was anything he wanted to talk about.
He brushed another kiss over the crown of her head, hugging her tightly, before whispering, “I love you.”
She sighed softly against his skin, hugging him in return, before tilting her head to look at him. “I love you, Peter.” He might not want to tell her what was bothering him, but that didn’t mean she couldn‘t do something for him. Rose rocked onto her toes, leaning up to brush a kiss over Peter’s lips. He leaned down, meeting her, returning the kiss; he tasted of peppermint, and she sighed happily.
“I want to make love to you, Peter,” she whispered against his mouth, moving to brush her lips across the stubble of his jaw, her hands sliding up his back.
He didn’t answer her, instead sliding his hands under the hem of her tee shirt, working the fabric upwards before helping her to take it off entirely. He immediately pressed his warm body against hers as he tossed her shirt off to the side, and she gasped at the sensation of his bare skin rubbing against hers.
“I take it that’s a yes, then?”
“Always,” he whispered against her lips, his hands sliding under the elasticised waist of her shorts. His hands were cold, and she felt a twinge between her legs as his palms slid down, over her arse.
She brought her hands up to cup his jaw, holding him as she kissed him, as he slid the last of her clothing off of her.
They continued to kiss, Rose naked, Peter clad only in his towel, their hands roaming across each other’s skin. Rose could feel her need for Peter continue to grow, wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to hold out, and finally drifted her hands to his waist, searching for where he’d tucked the towel in, seeking to loosen the cloth and have it fall away.
She found the tail of the terrycloth, nimbly worked to free it, and was rewarded with a gasp from Peter as his skin was exposed to the air. She loved the feel of him, his erection pressing into her, knowing that she drove him as mad as he did her.
“Peter,” she whispered around their kiss, her hands resting once more on his arse, pulling him against her.
“Mmmm.” He seemed far more interested in continuing to kiss her, his hands now buried in her hair.
“I...I want...” He silenced her, kissing her deeply, and she felt herself sag into him. She brought her hands to his waist, turned them as she continued to kiss him, and guided him to the bed. He showed no interest at all in breaking their kiss, and so she gently pushed him backwards, encouraging him to lie down; he wrapped her in his arms, and pulled her with him as he sat, as he lay back.
Rose took advantage of the movement, pulling back, encouraging him to move upwards on the bed. He opened his eyes, holding her gaze as he rested his head on a pillow; she straddled him, trapping his erection between her hips and his stomach as she leaned forward.
“I want...” She placed a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “To show you...” She brushed a kiss against his cheek. “How much...” She brushed kisses over his eyelids, before pulling back. “...I love you.” She held his gaze, her hand cupping his jaw, her thumb stroking over the stubble of his cheek.
He moved to reach forward, and she shifted, pinning his wrists against the mattress. “No, Peter. Let me.” She slid down his body, her hands holding his wrists in place for as long as possible, her body stretching along his as she continued to kiss downwards.
She finally had to let go, and continued to slide against him, kissing a line across his stomach, dipping her tongue into his belly button before dragging it down the line of hair leading to his erection. “I love you.” She drifted her tongue along the hardened length of his penis, her hands pressing his hips down as he tried to arch, to encourage her to do more. “So much. And I worry about you.” She took him into her mouth, then; slowly slid down, taking him in as far as she could, gently sucking on him before sliding him out of her mouth. “I worry that I could do more for you.” She bent forward, gently swirling her tongue around him, sucking lightly at the head of his penis before wrapping her hand around his erection. “And I want...” She kissed his tip, gently sucking him into her mouth, moving her hand and sliding him in, her teeth lightly scraping against his skin, causing him to arch off the bed, his hands fisting in the sheets.
“Rose...” He ground out as she once more sucked on him, moving to pull him out of her mouth.
“Peter...” she whispered against his skin. “I just want to know that you’re alright.” She kissed a line down his erection, kissed her way up; she danced the tip of her tongue across the head of his penis once more, before taking him into her mouth anew. “That you’d tell me if you weren’t.” She leaned back, her hand encircling him, beginning to rhythmically stroke him.
“I’d tell you.” His eyes bored into hers, the irises black, his cheeks red. She swallowed, feeling love and lust pass through her in an almost painful wave, and she squeezed gently as she increased her pace.
“Scotland...you’re alright?” She wanted to know that he was ok, desperately wanted to be reassured that Martin wasn’t bothering him, that he wasn’t sleepless because of something she could fix. And she wanted, almost painfully, to make Peter feel as amazing as he made her feel, wanted to hear him shout, and to see stars, to simply become lost in the moment.
“Rose...” His voice was desperate; she’d slowed her motion, lost in thought, and resumed once more, moving so she could kiss Peter. She stroked her tongue along the roof of his mouth, flicking her wrist as she continued to work him.
“My Peter. I want to know you’re ok.” She kissed his cheek, moving down his body once more, intent on bringing him to completion.
“Rose, my Rose...” She could hear the desperation in his voice, knew he was close to breaking. She began to intersperse her strokes with flicks of her tongue over his penis, and she felt him arch against her. “I...London...job...Rose...”
She stopped, pulling back, stunned. “What?”
“IwasthinkingoftakingajobinLondon and please don’t stop, Rose...” He sounded like he was in agony, and Rose returned her attention to the matter of seeing to Peter, of making sure he came to completion.
She took him in her mouth, set up a rhythm, sucking as she pulled back, relaxing as she took him in again, her hands resting against the skin of his hips. She felt him buck against her, and he came with an incoherent shout, pulsing, his entire body tense and arched off the bed.
He relaxed, collapsing, panting; Rose crawled up his body, intending to cuddle against him, instead squeaking in surprise as he rolled them, pinning her under him.
“You, Miss Rose Tyler, played dirty.” His eyes were still black, and she felt a twinge in her womb.
“Yes,” she whispered. She had done. “But I was worried about you...”
He leaned down, capturing her lips with his, kissing her fiercely. His fingers drifted across her body, moving without haste towards her legs. “You were curious,” he growled between kisses, as his hand slid between her legs, pressing against her deliciously.
“Yes. And worried-” The rest of her reply was cut short as Peter slid two fingers into her, pressing deeply, causing her to arch against him, wanting him to keep doing that, to not stop...”Please,” she sobbed, unable to say more as he slid his fingers out of her, moving them to dance lazily against her clit.
“Please what, Rose?” He nipped at her throat, his stubble rough against her skin. He continued to tease her, his fingers sliding just low enough to dip into her opening before moving back to her centre.
“Please, Peter...” She bucked against his hand, encouraging him, desperate to have this man she loved so thoroughly bring her to orgasm, desperate to have him move to London to be with her always...desperate simply for him.
He moved down her body, his lips replacing his fingers, teasing her, driving her on towards orgasm. His hands held her hips in place as his tongue delved into her, as his lips sucked against her; he began to lap at her rhythmically, setting a steady rhythm, his fingers sliding into her as his tongue teased her centre.
Her orgasm exploded through her, her eyes clenching painfully as she rode along on the waves of pleasure, Peter continuing to encourage her with his fingers and lips. The sensation finally moved from pleasure to tickling, and she playfully pushed Peter away.
“You win!” she said, breathlessly, giggling as he finally shifted away from her.
“Of course I do,” he said reasonably, moving to lie next to her. He slid an arm under her, and pulled her to him.
They lay together, catching their breath, wrapped in an embrace. Rose was the first to recover, and felt an impish grin cross her face. “I think you should take the job.”