Hands on Me: Next Time
Title: Hands on Me: Next Time
Rating: NC-17 for smut
Summary: The highly anticipated, long overdue sequel to Hands on Me.
Spoilers: Brief reference to 3x01 but nothing major.
Disclaimer; Heroes is not owned by me, but by Tim Kring. I’m simply borrowing these characters for non-profit entertainment.
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Hands on Me
“Next time, my Claire,” he had told her just before slipping out of her house as silently as he had crept in.
But it was exactly when he planned to come back that had been on Claire’s mind for the last two weeks.
It was no secret he could make her feel what no other could now. Hell, he hadn’t even literally touched her and yet the memory of his invisible caresses had been all too consuming.
The night he finally made his return had seemingly been no different than any other. Nothing out of place, no sounds of footsteps, chill in the air or moving shadows.
Her father was working late again, her mother and brother had gone to bed hours before and there Claire laid in her own bed. Her lights were off, her window open ever so slightly though there was no night wind to speak of. She had no need to fight sleep when she hardly felt tired. Sleeping was worse she had decided, after all Sylar had been appearing in nearly all of her dreams of late.
No more fear, no more running, only seeing the fantasies he had sparked those ago.
She almost swore she was beginning to see them in her waking state when she saw him standing in her bedroom mere moments later.
Had he come in through the window? Up the stairs again? She couldn’t be sure but didn’t want to waste this time wondering about something so meaningless. He had come back and for once she was relieved to see him.
“You came back,” she breathed as she sat up in her bed, never letting her eyes leave him for fear he would vanish if she so much as blinked.
“Well after you asked me so nicely to, how could I refuse?” he asked, keeping his voice low himself.
“How much longer are you going to me make me wait?”
“As long as it takes for you to tell me that you want me to touch you.”
She sighed. She should have known he would make her beg.
“I want you to touch me,” she told him, watching as he sauntered to the side of her bed.
He looked down at her, contemplating his next move for a moment. But soon he ran his fingertips slowly down her cheek, watching as she closed her eyes.
It was when she felt his fingertips trailing lower down her neck that she opened her eyes again. She wanted to do what she hadn’t been able to last time. To watch him, to see if this was another form of torture.
So far his expression had shown curiosity more than anything. Curiosity of what though, she was left to wonder.
“What do you really want?” he finally asked her.
“I want you to keep touching me.”
“There’s more,” he stated. He could hear it in her heartbeat and see it in the depths of her eyes. There was something she wasn’t saying and he would have her say it before making another move.
She closed her eyes. There was more, she just didn’t want to have to admit it to him. The fact she had already admitted to wanting to feel his hands trailing over every inch of her body had been difficult enough. Finally her need for him won out.
“I want you to give me my fantasy.”
He half-smiled. “Which one?”
“Kiss me.”
It wasn’t a question and he didn’t take it as such. He granted her request in a tender, barely lip to lip gesture but pulled back before she could even try to take it further.
He knew what she was asking. He had seen enough of what had been in her mind the last time to know what she wanted from him.
“Stand up.”
She did as she was told. Though as she stood just in front of him she wanted to run a hand through his hair, to press him to her, but she managed to resist the urge and watched as his hands came up, raising up her all too will-fitting tank top to just beneath her breasts.
He paused, just waiting for her sudden change of mind. To hear her call out to her parents or at the very least tell him that this was wrong.
Instead he only heard her breaths deepening. She wanted this, he knew. But it was the fact she wasn’t denying it that surprised him.
She gasped slightly at the feel of his lips making their first contact with her skin, her eyes still on him as he lined her stomach with slow, tender kisses.
He wanted to memorize every inch, every curve of her body, to familiarize his every sense with her.
Deeply, he inhaled her scent from his placement now at the waistband of her shorts. God, he wanted to taste her, but for now this had to do. He knew he would never forgive himself if he rushed this. He had wanted it for too long. And judging from the slender young woman trembling slightly in his hands out of anticipation and arousal, so had she.
Despite her blissful haze, Claire still knew how much further she wanted this to go. And knew that they both still had too many clothes on for that to happen.
Slowly, she brought her hands to the hem of her shirt, sliding the clingy cotton material from his hands and lifting it higher until it was off completely. She watched him as she let it drop, wanting to see his reaction. Would it suddenly be too real for him? Would he take advantage of just how vulnerable she was now? Would he decide he’d had his fun and slip silently back out into the night? She knew she couldn’t take any of that just then. But then part of her knew that her father didn’t call him a monster for nothing.
Instead he only gave a relieved smile against her soft skin, slowly letting his lips trail higher to the valley between her now bare breasts and bringing his hands to her sides.
Sighing out, Claire couldn’t have been more thankful for his hands then. They seemed to be all that was keeping her from collapsing to the floor in a puddle of simmering desire.
Sylar smiled inwardly when he was rewarded with a soft groan from her when he raked his short nails down her back as he pressed her just a little further into him.
She knew she still had to be mindful of her mother and brother in their own rooms at opposite ends of the hall, bit she never could have imagined he would be like this. As caring as he had once been cruel, as tender as he had been violent and she was only craving more with every kiss and ever caress. She wasn’t even bothered by his severe five o’clock shadow. Just the opposite. With every kiss and brush of his face against her she was reminded that this wasn’t another fantasy. That it was really him.
Claire gasped when he took a taught nipple past his lips and suckled until he could feel it throbbing between his lips, only then switching sides and giving her left the same treatment.
His eyes closed in concentration, letting her little moans be his guide. He wanted her to feel all she had that night and more. And with that in mind he finally released his supple treat and kissed upwards again. This time over her chest, along her collarbone, to her shoulder and up still to her neck.
Her hand canting back in a silent vow of permission, finally one of her hands came up of its own will and her slender fingers soon entangled themselves in his hair, keeping him where she wanted him.
Even through the oh so warm and calculated kisses, he began to smile as he continued on, the center hollow of her throat being next before he moved downwards again.
He found a twisted sort of satisfaction in her groan of protest as he pulled back when he again reached the waistband of her shorts.
“Do you still want this?” he softly asked, his hands to her hips and brown meeting blue as his eyes locked onto hers.
“Yes,” she all but panted, her body still trembling in desire.
Without another word he curled his long, slender fingers into her shorts and quickly rid her of them.
She had completely crossed a line now, she knew. Not only the painfully obvious, but here she was now nearly as vulnerable as she could be. Putting her trust in a man no other felt deserving and standing before him as naked as the day she was born. Still her only fear was that he would leave.
Instead Sylar stood and turned his attention to her lips again. Her first real request tonight had been for him to kiss her. And now he wanted another himself.
Claire eagerly accepted and returned the increasingly fevered kiss, curling an arm around his neck to steady herself and keep him close.
Sylar wasn’t too far lost in his own lustful emotions yet to forget what he was doing there. And he wouldn’t quite take her this soon. Not even if she really began to beg.
Still, that didn’t stop him from running his fingertips along her inner thigh and musing at the prickling of her firm skin. Raising his fingers higher, he greedily took her next gasp when they brushed against her slick folds. He hadn’t imagined she would be so wet so soon and yet her body seemed to be pleading for his more with every moment.
A muffled groan soon followed as he slipped a finger into her, a second soon following when he felt her eagerness and readiness for him.
Still he wanted her closer. He was on the verge of bursting through his pants as it was. If he lost control the moment he entered her, he wanted to know she was just as close herself.
As he curled his fingers deeper into her and pressed his thumb into her clit, he intensified the kiss again, knowing now she was nearly on the verge of screaming in her rapture and need.
No one had done anything like this for her before and it was nearly blinding. It didn’t matter now those were the same fingers that had once cut her open, or how much blood he’d had to wash off of his hands. All that mattered now was this, every desire he was fueling and every fantasy he was fulfilling. Maybe it was cliché for her to fall for the villain but as long as he kept kissing her like this and touching her like only he could, she couldn’t care less about clichés.
“Not yet, Claire,” he sighed as he took his hand back once her hips began to twist. He had to fight the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he heard her small groan of protest. “If we’re going to do this we should do it right, wouldn’t you say?”
“You mean -?”
“Unless you’ve changed your mind.” He watched her for a moment, knowing that while she might say one thing, everything else within her may scream another. This time he couldn’t help a slight smile when he realized what her reply really was.
“I want you. And all I want is to feel you,” she told him, trembling slightly still in his hold.
He released her just long enough to lift his shirt off and toss it aside before telekinetically turning his attention to the rest of his clothes.
“Come to me then,” he breathed as he sat on the side of the bed again, his arms around her now, feeling her moving into them until her legs were between his and against her mattress.
He pulled her gently onto his lap and gave her a deep kiss that matched her own longing. He hadn’t known just how much he had needed this himself until then and he couldn’t help but revel slightly in the fact that she wasn’t backing away from him.
Slowly he laid down, bringing her with him and finally shifting around until their bodies were completely on the bed.
When he felt her warm, flushed skin against his own he carefully rolled them over to rest above her. She could feel him pressing into her, yet still he lowered a hand again to rekindle her inner flames.
“Haven’t you teased me enough already?” she finally asked him, fighting to keep her hips still as he stroked her.
He smiled down at her. “Are you sure you’re ready for me?”
“I have been since that night. I need you, Sylar.”
It was then he kissed her again, feeling her hands come up to his shoulders as he positioned himself at her core. It was also then Sylar surprised her again. She had expected him to take her in a swift, single motion. But he didn’t, instead taking his time as he slid into her.
She breathed his name, her muscles relaxing around him, seemingly molding to him and her body further welcoming the invasion.
The pleasure was overwhelming and nearly maddening all at once. He wanted her to feel him and savor her plush warmth for as long as he could.
Claire however didn’t seem to have exactly the same idea. Her hips were the first to raise up beneath him, beginning a slow rhythm that he couldn’t even pretend to mind.
The cheerleader he had once come to kill. The frightened teenaged girl he had comforted with words, now undeniably his. And he intended to keep her.
Feeling her mouth opening beneath his questing tongue and her legs come up to wrap around his him, he knew to speed their pace slightly. He knew he had done good to last this long as it was, not having been with a woman in ages and finally having the one he wanted most moving with him and meeting his every thrust.
Claire was once again thankful for his ability to all but silence her groans. More now than ever as she felt his hand venture down between them once more. She was too close already and as she felt him thrust deep within her and his fingers skillfully circle her clit again, she knew her moaning could have easily gotten them caught.
Sylar knew it too and his own wouldn’t have helped. Their long, impassioned kiss was all that was keeping their forbidden pleasure from being discovered.
It was only a few thrusts more before he felt what was left of his control slipping away. Her muscles clinging more to him, slowly beginning to coil.
Eagerly taking down his hushed rapturous groan as he pulsed within her, Claire’s own all-consuming orgasm almost instantly followed. The surprise of it all had rendered her almost silent as she came, though Sylar knew all too well that despite her silence he had surely fulfilled at least one of her fevered fantasies.
It wasn’t for another long moment that he withdrew himself and collapsed beside her. He’d only meant to stay until she fell asleep, but he still couldn’t bring himself to leave her so soon. She had been all he could think of for the last two years and there would certainly been no end in sight after tonight.
“Wait,” Claire quietly called to him as she awoke just in time to see Sylar dressed and heading for her bedroom door.
He stopped and turned back to her. He had already stayed too long, he knew, but he also knew he owed it to her to hear what she had to say.
“Will you come back?”
“Don’t I always, Claire?” he smiled.
She almost laughed in the realization. “Will you ever stay.”
He knew she meant for the night, where she wouldn’t have to pretend that their nights together hadn’t happened and she wouldn’t awake alone in an otherwise empty bed.
“One day,” he nodded.
“Goodnight then, Sylar,” she told him, knowing as well as he did what would happen should her parents find him in the house.
“Goodnight, my Claire,” he replied.
Just like that he was gone again, disappearing back into the night from where he had come. He was supposed to be her greatest adversary, her worst nightmare. Yet all she could do now was wait for the day it could be just the two of them.
“One day,” he had said.
“One day,” he had promised.
It became a promise that he kept sooner than either had anticipated. And a promise he continued to keep.
The End