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Title: Not a Petrelli, Chapter 6
Characters/Pairings: Paire
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: um, in mine, I guess the "relation" is a bit AU- sexual content I guess...I HAD this f-locked, but people complained...so please dont delete me from the forum without helping me! 
Spoiler alert:  Spoilers to end of the series...nothing earth shattering.
Summary:  Peter and Claire find themselves on the run, and hours alone in a car can bring on some pretty interesting confessions.  In Chapter 6, Peter and Claire relax in the afterglow.

Chapter 6

 

       Claire woke about an hour later, she estimated- glancing over at the clock.  She rubbed her eyes, making out the dim hotel room and Peter sleeping peacefully, having rolled off of her onto his back.  She moved onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow and just gazed at him, her body still tingling from her pleasurable release.  She pushed herself above him, watching his face in its sleep.

       “I love you too Peter”, she said quietly.  She moved her hand over his smooth chest, only a little bit of hair interrupting the lean muscles.  His hand lazily covered hers in his sleep.  Her other hand went lower, wanting to know every inch of his body.  She reached more hair as she went lower, exploring what her friends called “the Happy Trail”.  Now she knew why.  She reached his penis- gently exploring it with her hand.  She drew back, mildly surprised as he responded to her touch, becoming slightly hard.  She continued though, biting her bottom lip slightly.  She moved her hand down his shaft, reaching the sensitive head and encircling it.  She moved down it once again touching his balls gently, seeing how firm they were and rolling them slightly. 

        Peter was gently awakened from his sleep- some blonde angel was fondling him.  He stayed quiet, intrigued by the display.  And hell, having Claire touch him all over was a great change from the shaky sleep of prophecies and danger that had become his routine.  She was genuinely fascinated with him, his long hardening cock before her, the sensitive tip becoming moist and slightly inflamed.  She looked up, catching his eyes, he smiled slightly, not moving.  She leaned further over, her hair ticking his navel as she leaned down and kissed it.  He closed his eyes, releasing a long sigh.  In seeing his reaction and his hands tangle through her hair, she decided she wanted to give him the pleasure he had given her.  He started to sit up, but she pushed his shoulders back gently, straddling his legs.

      “Shhh” she coaxed, as he laid back down, his eyes never leaving her.

      “I’m sorry if this is kind of strange…I’ve only done this a couple of times…haven’t had a lot of, you know, experience…” she started to explain.

      Peter shook his head.  “It doesn’t matter.  You couldn’t do anything wrong- I love you.”

      Her face softened, a slight smile forming on her lips as she bent down, taking him into her mouth.  He relaxed into the bed, his whole being feeling bolts of pleasure as she put her mouth on him and moved her tongue around the sensitive head.  She caressed the bottom of his shaft, pulling up slightly on it as she pumped slightly on the top.  He was lost in her mouth, in her beautiful eyes, the sway of her breasts over him.  He was lost in the golden forests of her hair and the very slight feeling of her teeth gently grazing him occasionally.  She ran her tongue up along the shaft, causing him to literally shiver and groan loudly, making her smile.  She pulled a little more insistently as she returned to the head, sucking harder.   His hips started to thrust, moving him in and out of her mouth.  From here she decided to keep a firm grasp but let him do what he needed.  His movements became more frantic, her small hands grabbing him, her warm, wet mouth inviting him.  His hips became erratic, pumping in and out again and again before letting go, coming harder than he ever thought possible.  His hands gently pulled at her hair, and he growled, his hips still shaking upwards.  She continued to suck- all of him.  The pull of her lips extended his pleasure, waves of his climax rolling over him.  When he finally relaxed into the bed, she laid on his arm, tracing small patterns on his chest.

      “Fuck…that was…what was that for?”

      “It was for before.  And because you’re always giving Peter, I thought it might be nice if someone gave something to you.” 

        He grabbed her hand, interlacing their fingers. 

       “Ahhh, for me.  I see…”, he said aloud as he propped his head up with his free arm. 

 

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Title: Not a Petrelli, Chapter 5
Characters/Pairings: Paire
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: um, in mine, I guess the "relation" is a bit AU- sexual content I guess...
Spoiler alert:  Spoilers to end of the series...nothing earth shattering.
Summary:  Peter and Claire find themselves on the run, and hours alone in a car can bring on some pretty interesting confessions.  In Chapter 5, Peter and Claire take their relationship up a notch.  Sorry for the delay, can you believe this started out as a one-shot? (Honestly!)

 

       “Does this even hurt?” Peter asked her, pushing two fingers into the side of her hip, examining the purple and green bruise which was the only thing left of her fracture.

     “Yeah it hurts, but not that bad.  More like a pressure.”  It escaped neither of their attention that she was lying on her side, his fingers traveling over her smooth hip, dipping ever so slightly below the thin sheet draped across her.  Her warm hand covered his, resting on her hip now.

      She put her hands over his, meeting his eyes as he moved his fingers forward, to caress her hips, lovingly.  She sat up in the bed, holding the sheet against her.  She took his hand in hers once again.

      “C’mon, I have an idea.”  She said.  Peter didn’t respond, only let her guide him wherever she wanted.  She led them into the bathroom, where she started the water in the shower.  As the water heated up, she turned to him and gazed into his eyes with lust and care.  He was already shirtless, and Claire proceeded to unbuckle his belt, followed by the ceremonial unzipping of his jeans.  His boxers soon joined his jeans on the floor.  Claire looked down.  Normally, she wasn’t too interested in the nudity of a man, not the way the guys she had been with had been itching to see her naked.  But Peter was really beautiful.  She let her hand travel up his hip, onto his stomach, up to his shoulder which she kissed very gently.

       Peter stood, momentarily frozen.  ‘Is this REALLY happening?  No, I’m going to wake up and be in my apartment…alone.’  But she peeled off her panties, letting them drop to her feet.   They stood watching each other, completely vulnerable.  She carefully walked backwards into the shower, guiding him.  He slid the door shut behind them.

       She took a bar of soap, lathering it in her hands and sliding it across his chest.  He could feel her warm, athletic hands sliding over his chest and shut his eyes as she grazed his nipples.  He opened his eyes, kissing her fiercely.  He walked her back into the warm spray of water, dousing her hair.  She moaned softly, leaning back into the shower as it soaked her hair.  She ran her fingers through it quickly, turning around letting Peter spread the Rosemary-Mint shampoo in it.  He did it slowly, methodically and the balls of his fingers massaged her scalp very gently.  She rinsed the last of the shampoo from her eyes, doing the same thing for him.  Aside from a few short laughs, they said nothing.  They were sick of words.  They didn’t need them right now.  

        He took the soap into his own hands, lathering the front of her body, savoring the feel of her firm, athletic body under his hands once again.  Claire stood, a little self conscious but incredibly aroused.  He dropped to his knees, worshipping her, not even minding the little specks of water that would flip into his eyes from the showerhead.  He kissed her breasts again, teasing the nipples a little roughly with his teeth, thoroughly suckling on each one.  She put an arm out to the wall to steady herself and made deep noises in the back of her throat, as she realized how turned on she was.  Seeing him work on her breasts was an even bigger turn-on, and he sucked them until they were so sensitive she could have come right there. 

     “Oh…” she said, her fingers wrapping around his sexy grown out hair.  He moved from her breasts, now raw and hard from his attention, down her stomach, letting his tongue gently swirl around her navel.  Peter’s hands gently grasped her ass, pulling her closer to him.  He finally reached the apex between her legs, and drank in the sight of her, memorizing the slightly darker pubic area and the sweet, unique aroma of her. 

      She gasped slightly as he moved her thighs slightly apart, putting one leg slightly over his shoulder.  He smiled up at her, her drenched locks and flushed face taking his breath away.    

        “Are you okay with this?” he asked.  She smiled hypnotically and nodded. 

     Peter figured if they were going to do this, she was going to be ready- and enjoy it.

      So he placed one more gentle kiss below her navel and slowly moved his face to where he wanted to be.  He gently parted her folds and teased her sensitive nub ever so slightly with his warm tongue. 

      He secretly liked doing this- and suspected almost every guy did.  To worship a woman you’re craving like this- to make it all about her.  To make her heart pound with need and her body shudder with release.  It was the sexiest thing in the world.  So he closed his warm mouth around her and she gasped and instinctively closed her thighs around him.  He moved a hand up her leg, in between her thighs and almost lost it himself as he sank a finger into her tight wetness.  She gasped and bucked against him, and he cut back to sucking only very gently and methodically moved his finger in and out of her. 

     “Oh god…oh god, Peter…” she gasped, both of her hands outstretched now onto the walls of the shower, keeping her from falling.  He chuckled slightly against her.  He could taste her arousal, which was arousing him in return.  He sucked harder, sliding in a second finger to join the first.   She began grinding her hips against him, pulling him in deeper and deeper.  She reached one arm down now, steadying herself on his shoulder.

     She could feel the pressure building within her with ever purse of his lips.  He slowed down again, only to proceed at full speed.  The tension in her loins built, and she instinctively pinches her nipples.  He saw that, and it only encouraged him- plunging in his fingers deeper, crooking them until he hit a place that almost made her knees buckle.

     “Oh right there, oh my god…” Claire was practically crying at this point, sobbing for release.  Just as he felt her getting close so he stopped, removing his fingers and tasted them as he met her eyes.  She groaned in disappointment, subconsciously thrusting her groin towards him- the sight of his desire-darkened eyes just made things worse.  He swirled his tongue around each finger, savoring the taste of her.  She groaned again, and he stood up, now looking down on her.   He put his hands to her lips-

      “Shhh, it’s going to be okay.”  Claire’s brow her furrowed in disappointment, but soon turned giddy as he shut off the shower and scooped her up into his arms.   She smiled and kicked her legs excitedly, his arousal poking into her back encouraging her.  He roughly dropped her onto the bed, and she became pretendingly shy, slyly looking at him as she brought the sheet teasingly over herself.  He grabbed her still exposed ankles, yanking her down and sending her onto her back, laughing.  Her laughs turned to panted sighs- he pulled her down further, removing the sheet.  Peter ran his hands along her smooth thighs, putting his hands on the outside of her hips, once again exposing her to him. Now he could see all of her- he could have control.  He nestled in between her legs, his hair falling into his eyes as he bent to please her.  He started again, sucking gently and roughly, savoring every minute with her.  Her back arched, her beautiful breasts sitting atop her luscious body as she writhed beneath him.  One of his hands returned to where they were, gently and easily sliding into her now, exploring and massaging her inner walls.  He was in heaven- she was so warm and tight.  She pulled the sheets with her fists, and his free hand roamed upwards to clutch hers, and their fingers entwined together.  It was all she could do to keep herself grounded.

      He proceeded  faster and harder, slowing down and again speeding up until she could no longer take it- one last good suck and a final plunge inside, to a spot so deep and sensitive inside her that it pushed her over the edge.

    It was somewhere between a grunt and a cry, her muscles spasming around his fingers.  He continued to suck, his fingers firmly planted on her “hot spot”- prolonging her pleasure.  When it seemed to finally subside, he coaxed along her clit as long as he could,  scooting up the bed, entranced by her expression and as hard as he could ever remember being.. 

     She was liquid…every single muscle in her was relaxed.  She never thought it could be THAT great.  But it was.  At least with Peter.  She kissed him roughly as he hoisted her into his strong arms, making her very aware of his erection.  She didn’t miss this fact- he had given her all the pleasure, and asked for none.  Such is the martyr Peter.

      He suspended himself above her on his strong arms.  He looked deeply into her gazing eyes.

     “Are you sure?” he asked, worried for her.

     “Yes”, she nodded, both of her eyes searching his.  He started to pull out a condom from his jeans on the floor.  She sat up and stilled his hand- “No.  I just want you.”

      “Claire we have to be careful-“

      “I know.  I’ve been on the pill since I was 15.  I’ve never been with anybody.  I’m pretty sure you’re clean.”

      He looked up at her expression, giving her a sideways smirk.

      “I’m clean…but only if you’re sure…”  She leaned forward over her still open legs. 

      “I’m sure” she said, letting her arms fall about his neck and pulling him forward once again on her, their still wet bodies sliding together.  His hips rested between her legs, waiting at her aroused entrance.

      “Ready?” 

      She nodded, her face flushed half in anticipation and arousal- half in fear. 

      Peter kissed her eyelids.  “It’s okay.”  And with that, he entered her.  He went slow until he felt her slight barrier, and in one quick movement, thrusted forward.  He heard a small whimper come from her.

      “I’m sorry”, he said, regretting causing her the pain. 

     “It’s okay.  It’s just…something to get used to” she answered with a half smile, willing her body to relax around him.  Neither of them moved, just savoring the moment of being this close.

     “But I love feeling you inside me.  I’ve thought about this since the first night we met.”

      Peter smirked.  “So have I”, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss until it  became ferverent.  He couldn’t take it anymore- the feeling of her so warm, so wet and so slick was too much- and he began to move in and out of her.  She moved her legs around his waist, allowing him deeper access.  At first she didn’t feel much of anything, but as her clit reacted to the contact of his body, she could feel her lower half coming alive.  His cock softly hit that same sensitive spot deep inside her, other spots reacting to her previous arousal and this new stimulation.  Her breathing became deep and she clenched her pelvic muscles.

      He moaned slightly, causing her to smile under him.  He saw her face.

     “What?” he asked, amused at her expression.

     “It makes me feel good- I caused you to moan…”

     He chuckled with her, running his hands to either side of her face.

     “Claire, you have no idea what you do to me” and he kissed her roughly, their tongues colliding, the pressure of his pumping hips increasing.  He sank down a little, his chest now resting on hers, reveling in the feeling of her erect nipples grazing him.  He lowered himself further, eager to take one of the rosy peaks into his mouth.  He did so, loving her so soft yet firm in his mouth.  He reached down in between them, rubbing her clit very slightly. 

      “AH!” she gasped loudly, surprisingly choking a smile back as she arched off the bed, pulling him in deeper and his mouth closer. 

      The feeling of her pulling at him, enveloping him in her silky wetness was euphoric.  With each thrust he was trying to go deeper, harder into her.  He gritted his teeth, feeling his impending orgasm.  ‘Not yet’ he thought to himself.  He started going faster, each pump of his hips getting a little rougher, touching her a little harder way inside.  His groin crushed gently against her clit and the combined sensation was culminating in her- she was close. She started meeting his hips with her own, locking her ankles together around him.

     “Oh Peter, I’m close...harder, please...” And with that he pumped harder than he thought he ever could or that his body could handle.  He pulled her up to him, half sitting, her body arching, her perfect breasts exposed to him now.  His hand rested on the small of her back helping to support her as he thrusted deeper and harder- the feel of her around him too wonderful- and in one great movement he plunged into her- and orgasm took them both over, panting and writhing against each other.  They very slowly melted back into the bed.  He groaned loud, inhaling her wonderful scent and reveling in the natural, erotic smell of their mutual desire.

     “Claire…you’re so beautiful…you feel so good”…She could feel her muscles contracting once again, his hot seed feeling her.  He ground his hips to hers, prolonging her orgasm.  Neither of them moved, too tired, too scared the moment would be over.  He gently rested on top of her, still inside of her.

       Her eyes fluttered open, the color returning to her vision and casually looked off into the ceiling.  Her hand gently touched his hair, his hot breath on her breast. 

      “Wow”, she said so softly it was almost a whisper.

      “That was incredible”, he countered, his hand moving around her breast.  He kissed it as he lazily looked at her face.

       “You look so amazing, right now…”

       Claire rolled her eyes.  “Yeah right”

       He moved up, chastely kissing her lips and eyelids.

       “Beautiful” Peter commented, looking down at her tenderly.  She put her hand to his face, smoothing her thumb over his cheek.  She guided him back down to lay on her chest. 

 

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Title: Not a Petrelli, Chapter 4
Characters/Pairings: Paire
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: um, in mine, I guess the "relation" is a bit AU- sexual content I guess...
Spoiler alert:  Spoilers to end of the series...nothing earth shattering.
Summary:  Peter and Claire find themselves on the run, and hours alone in a car can bring on some pretty interesting confessions.  In Chapter 4, Claire is just waking up in the charming B & B.

 

          It was late afternoon when Claire finally woke, feeling the sun on her face and the car slow down and stop, slightly skidding on a patch of gravel.  She yawned, rubbing her eyes and the side of her face which had been pressed against the glass of the Jeep for hours. 

       “What’s going on?” she asked the dark haired driver.

       “You’ve been asleep for hours.”

       “Sorry, I should’ve taken over and been driving.”

       Peter smiled.  “No problem.”

      “Where are we?” 

      “I think”, he started, tracing his fingers over a road map, “somewhere in the Catskills.  I didn’t know where to go- I just kept driving North.  I saw this place-“ he said, gesturing to a small bed and breakfast “thought maybe I could catch some winks, and you-“ he continued, his gaze traveling over her “-could change.”

       Claire looked down and lightly gasped. 

       ‘You didn’t REALLY want this shirt back, did you?”

       Peter laughed.  “Well, you look much sexier in it.”

      She smiled.  “I, have my jeans in the back.”

      “Okay, just wait here, lock the doors”, he stated firmly, “and Ill get us a room.”

      Nodding, Claire gathered up the few pieces of clothing she had thrown into the backseat as they had quickly escaped.  Peter came back to the car and she tumbled out, clutching the small ball of clothing. 

     “Up there”, he whispered , suddenly wondering why he was hurrying her.

     ‘Old habits’ he thought to himself.

     He couldn’t help but watch as she hurried up the stairs before him, her gorgeous legs pumping and the shirt riding up just enough to see her panties.  He shook it off, following her up the stairs. 

     As soon as she walked through the open door, Claire threw the ball of clothes onto the bed and reached her arms above her, tugging off her shirt and discarding it onto the floor.  Peter was mezmorised- and was just busy memorizing the curves of her back, the small patch of freckles on her shoulder, and the way her waist dipped before her hips.  She walked straight away into the bathroom, propping one leg up on the sink and twisting to the side, wincing through gritted teeth as the bone that had protruded through her skin visibly retracted into her hip.  She came out, and got under the covers. 

 

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Title: Not a Petrelli, Chapter 3
Characters/Pairings: Paire
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: um, in mine, I guess the "relation" is a bit AU- sexual content I guess...
Spoiler alert:  Spoilers to end of the series...nothing earth shattering.
Summary:  Peter and Claire find themselves on the run, and hours alone in a car can bring on some pretty interesting confessions.  In Chapter 3, the Paire find themselves waking up in a cheesy motel.

 

       Claire woke up, her back pressed against his chest, his larger body spooning her.  She inhaled deeply; Peter’s strong arm pulling her closer in his sleep.  His hand against his breast, which she smirked at.  She may never feel this way again.  Sylar could kill her, she could be kidnapped, she could... 

 

“Why are you thinking that kind of stuff?  Ill never let anyone hurt you…” he said over her.  She turned her head, meeting his sleepy eyes. 

 

“I know”, she replied, meeting his lips in a gentle kiss.  “I’m just so lucky to have a strong, handsome man with me.”  He smiled back at her.  “I’m going to get us some coffee” he said, breaking contact with her and swiftly getting out of bed, tossing his hair back from his face.  Claire wrapped the top sheet around her, simply watching his strong back flex and move as he pulled on his jeans.  He turned around and saw her face.

 

“What?” he asked, his forehead creased in confusion.

“Nothing”, she answered, dreamily resting her head against her knees.  “You’re just…beautiful Peter.  Beautiful- inside and out.”

     Peter felt his face turn maroon. 

     “I’m not good with compliments…sorry.” he answered.

     “No reply necessary.” She said with an upbeat tone.  “Now get me my coffee!” Claire yelled playfully, tossing a pillow at him.

     “Okay I have a key, needless to say don’t let anybody in”, he leaned in giving her a quick kiss.  Ill be back as soon as I can.” He turned to leave and Claire stood up.

     “Peter?”

     “Yeah?”

     Claire smirked. “I love you too…and…hurry back”, she said teasingly, letting the sheet drop, pooling around her feet.  She didn’t have her panties on anymore either.   It was worth his expression.

     His gaze traveled her body, before she slowly turned around, sitting back on the bed.  He couldn’t say anything.

    “Coffee Peter.  Seriously”, she added innocently.

    He inhaled deeply, stuffing the key into his pocket before running out the door, locking it behind him. 

     Claire lay back onto the bed.  She opened her eyes in realization.  This is what happiness was.  Who would’ve thought it would be here, in a shitty hotel off of the New Jersey turnpike.  But she had always been a firm believer in a mantra- its not where you are or what you’re doing- but who you’re with.  She smiled, closing her eyes before hearing a knock at the door.  She reclaimed the sheet from its resting place on the floor, cautiously approaching the peephole.  As she looked out, she saw Peter, standing with his hands in his pockets.  And no coffee.  Something wasn’t right.

     “Did you forget something?’ she asked without opening the door,

     He nodded.  “Yeah ha, kind of hard to get coffee without any money.”  Claire looked around the room- sure enough, there was his wallet on the dresser. 

      “Why didn’t you just use the key?”

     “I forgot it”.  Again Claire looked- the key was attached to a yellow plastic bracelet, sitting a few feet away from his wallet.

     “C’mon, it’s me, just open up.”  Claire got behind the door, grabbing a cheap vase from the little table in the room.  She opened the door, ready to strike.  And when he came into the room, she did, smashing the small vase over his head and running for the bathroom. 

      “Ahhh!” the man screamed.  Claire didn’t stop, just ran into the bathroom and locked the door with the tiny flimsy doorknob lock.  Her hands trembled slightly as she backed up to the sink.  She gathered her clothes from the day before, balling them into her hands and searching for an exit.  There was a small fan vent, but nothing else. The man began pounding on the outside of the door, the small frame shaking with each strike.  She put on her bed clothes, ready to come at the approaching danger with anything she had.  If she was going down, she was going down fighting.  The door burst open, the stranger not so much a stranger, but a brunette woman with a bitch of a sneer coming towards her.

      “What did you do to him?” Claire asked, continuing to back into the tiny room, stepping over the shower barrier.

     “Don’t worry, I took care of him.  Just come with me and this will all be over really fast.  Scouts honor.”, the woman replied, putting up her two fingers in mock sincerity.  She grabbed at Claire, who slid down to the floor onto her hip with a resounding boom.  She grabbed onto her legs by the ankles, Claire kicked until she was sure she had broken both of her legs. 

     “C’mon”, the other woman grunted, “don’t make me have to shoot you.”  Claire sat up, punching her square in the face.  The other woman stopped momentarily, making a small wipe under her nose to see the specks of blood.

     “Awww man!  I JUST had a facial!” she yelled back even angrier.  This time her nails dug into the bottom of Claire’s leg, the same one with the throbbing hip.

     “UH-AH!” the woman growled, her grip loosening and her eyes rolling back into her head.  She sank to the floor, collapsing into a small heap.  Claire looked up.  Peter was standing in the doorway, holding up one of the cheap wooden chairs. 

     “I tried to get the lamp first but, uh, it’s nailed down.”

      Claire’s mouth stayed agape and she quickly got up and away from the stranger on the floor.

      “Who the hell was she?”

      Peter set down the chair, went to his bag and pulled out a small black bag.  He unzipped it and came back into the bathroom with a small syringe.

      “Beats the hell out of me, but whomever she is”, he replied, injecting her, “by the time she wakes up, we will be long gone.”

      Claire watched, fascinated.

      “What did you give her?” 

      Peter smirked.  “A sedative.  I thought I told you to not open the door for anybody.” 

      Claire winced as she rubbed her ever more painful hip.

     “I’m sorry.  I don’t know how to explain it, but she was…you.  You said you left your wallet and key” she explained, gesturing to the items over on the dresser. 

      “Me?” Peter answered, looking confused.

     “Look- I’m not stupid and I’m not crazy.  But it was you.” She turned around, feeling foolish and shameful.

     He put his arms around her, coming up from behind her. 

     “It’s alright.  Some really weird shit has been happening lately, to say the least. But they know were here, they know my car.  We have to leave.  Now.”  With that they broke apart, gathering their few belongings.  Casing the parking lot, they found the spare on a small Jeep and drove out of the parking lot, unnoticed in a stolen car.  

to bo continued...

Current Mood: mischievous mischievous

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Title: Not a Petrelli, Chapter 2
Characters/Pairings: Paire
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: um, in mine, I guess the "relation" is a bit AU- sexual content I guess...
Spoiler alert:  Spoilers to end of the series...nothing earth shattering.
Summary:  Peter and Claire find themselves on the run, and hours alone in a car can bring on some pretty interesting confessions.  In Chapter 2, Peter and Claire find shelter for the night.


Chapter 2

 

    Claire looked at herself in the mirror and fumbled with her top- well, technically his top.  She had only gotten a few new things since leaving Texas, and even fewer of those had made it into their getaway car.  So Peter had given her his shirt, the one he had been wearing.  She glanced at herself again, her long tanned legs sticking out from the black shirt, which came only a few inches below the bottom of her panties.  She never slept with a bra on, so the shirt rested on her now unrestrained breasts.  Pulling the top over her nose, she could smell him- a combination of masculinity, vanilla and fresh laundry.  She smiled to herself and covered her face, the strange feelings once again settling into her stomach.  What would she find beyond that door?

     She was nervous, made even more nervous by the clerk, who believed they were newlyweds.  Peter didn’t want to give them any reason to be suspicious- like having two people in a single.  Claire thought he was being silly, but kept quiet and let him do his thing. 

      Peter waited….for what, he wasn’t sure.  She went into the bathroom after him, taking his shirt in with her.  He laid back onto the pillows- HIS shirt, on that body.  He tried shaking the feelings off.  He was under the covers in his boxers, trying to look casual, trying to scoot to the very edges of the bed, giving her as much room as possible.  He suddenly felt akward and pulled the pillow over his face, punching it a few times.

     “Peter?” he heard.  He didn’t hear the croak of the bathroom door.  As he lowered the pillow- he had a sudden epiphany- why?  Why was he fighting himself?  She was almost of age- and she was right, she was more mature than anyone he knew- regardless of age.  She wasn’t his niece, a fact that he thanked God for at least 100 times since learning the truth.  And he might be giving up his life for the lives of millions- maybe this is his happiness.  This, here and now.  Her.  Her gorgeous smile, shiny hair, sense of humor, strength, long tanned legs exposed to him, beautiful breasts swaying ever so slightly underneath his shirt…

      Claire smiled at him, bringing him back to reality.  He laid down on his side, facing away from her.

      “Is that shirt okay?  Sorry I didn’t have time to pack anything”, he asked, gulping as he felt the bed lower with her weight and the soft movement of the mattress as she settled in. 

     She stared at the ceiling “Yeah, its fine.  Thanks.”  Was he going to pretend that nothing happened?

      Peter squeezed his eyes shut- habitually fighting his urge to turn to her and hold her.  Run his hand up her silky thighs to underneath his shirt.  To kiss her breasts- to really taste her. 

      “Peter?” he heard again, and he turned halfway towards her.  Claire looked over at him, his athletic back beautiful to her- smooth and masculine.  Maybe he was a swimmer’ she thought to herself as her eyes traveled over his well defined shoulder and arm muscles.  

      “Yeah?” he asked, half looking at her.

      “Will you hold me?  I just want someone to hold onto me.”

      He turned over, his nice torso revealed to her in all of its glory.   Claire smiled.  When she thought she was a Petrelli, she was mad she hadn’t gotten a little bit of their swarthy skin- that beautiful Mediterranean gold that gave the Petrelli boys their finishing touch. 

      Claire couldn’t help it, she was still smiling.  He returned her smile ever so slightly, still fearful of appearing as a creepy older guy.  She ran her hands down his smooth chest, being so bold as to go below his navel, where the skin was very soft and he had a bit of downy like hair.  She smiled again as he instinctively pulled in his muscles…he was ticklish. 

      Peter couldn’t move- he was fascinated watching her taking him in for the first time.  Tingles of immense sensation radiated from her touch, culminating in the pit of his stomach and in his groin.  He carefully placed his hands over hers, scooping her a bit and bringing her towards him.  He hugged the blonde to his body, and her face felt comfortable against his chest after he rolled onto his back.  They settled and he was trying to maintain control while her warm body rested on his.  Claire’s hands moved casually around him.

     “Claire- have you ever been with a guy?” he asked her, still staring at the spackled ceiling, the fan the only noise in the room.

      Claire froze.

     “I’ve had boyfriends, if that’s what you mean” she said, her hand finding his and interlacing their fingers.

     Smiling to himself, he went on “Well, did you, did they- are you…” he tried to find the right words and felt his face flush as she smiled against his skin.

     “Okay I think I know what you want to know and-“, she placed her chin on his chest, looking up and meeting his eyes- “I’ve done everything but, okay?  Well, just about everything.  How about you?  Your girlfriends?”

      Peter laughed.  “Ahhh yes, you speak of my harem- the number of girls I’ve been with can be counted on one hand.  The majority of them being more interesting and funny than “hot”.  I’m a dork from way back, what can I say?”  He looked back at her, expecting her to be laughing.  But she was only gazing at him, a small smile on her face.  She rested her head against his chest once again. 

     “That’s nice.  Really.  Why did you want to know about me?” she said, already knowing his reasons. 

      “I don’t know” he answered honestly, furrowing his brow, his thumb now caressing the outside of her hand.  With that she crawled up his body, straddling his slim figure with her legs.  She laid down on him once again, capturing his lips in a slow, burning kiss which she controlled.  She knew a few tricks, and sucked on his bottom lip a little bit after they broke away.

      He opened his eyes slowly and realized he was trembling slightly.  He could smell her now- not just her fragrant hair, but her skin.  Her body.  Everything.  It was driving him mad. 

      His lips met hers more urgently this time, and she matched his pace.  He sat upright, her legs still on either side of him and now straddling his lap.  His hands roamed up and down her body- memorizing the weight of her breasts, the warm feel of her hips.  He broke away from her, tugging on the top of the shirt and swiftly removing it from her nubile form.  Claire automatically tried to hide herself, but he gently collected both of her hands in his, and kissing them both and held onto them, pulling them away from her to look at all of her. 

     Claire breathed heavy, disbelieving what was happening.  ‘God he’s beautiful’, she thought to herself.  Everything she had been feeling was pulsing into her stomach- excitement, desire, lust.  She desperately wanted to kiss him again.

     Peter knew she was being shy, but couldn’t stop taking her in- her medium sized bosom perfectly matching her form, her skin gold from the sun, the way her cute little surfer girl panties hugged her hips.  He held her arms down with one hand, taking his free one and gently touched her cheek, letting his gaze and hand travel down her armpit, to the side of her breast, to her ticklish middle, to the outside of her thighs.

      “You’re amazing” he said, looking into her unsure face.  He kissed her once more, gently on the lips, before swirling his lips around her neck, with which she groaned.  He released his hands, running them up her torso and cupping her breasts.  His thumbs grazed her nipples, causing the already semi-erect buds to harden in his hands.  She sighed loudly, moaning as she closed her eyes. 

      “Ah!” she heard herself say as she felt his hot, warm mouth on her- his tongue circling her, his teeth gently biting at her swollen tips.  Guys had done this before, but this felt different.  Sometimes she was so desperate to be in control, she willed herself to feel nothing.  Not this- as he nuzzled the now sensitive bud with the side of his face and turned to the other, jolts of pleasure shot through her; warming between her legs.  Instinctively, she began to gently grind her hips against him.      

     Peter inhaled deeply- closing his eyes and memorizing her scent, suckling her- tasting the very light layer of sweat developing.  Claire leaned down, running her hands through his hair, resting her face into it and inhaling deeply.  Peter’s mouth released her, simply laying against her chest, her arms encircling his head, pulling him gently to her.  He listened to her heartbeat and she drew back and found his lips, exploring gently.  He laid back onto the bed, pressing her to him, not breaking their kiss.  She laid her head against him, her tendrils tickling his neck, his hand searching her back, the other interlacing with hers.  Their legs tangled together, and he was barely able to control his arousal at the feeling of her long, smooth legs against his.  He wanted to just be with her right now.  Actually he wanted to be cradled between her legs, watching her fiery blue eyes light up as he moved inside of her, giving her all the pleasure he could.  But that part would always be there…he had rushed into sex before, only realizing in hindsight how stupid it was. 

       He wanted things to be different with her.  So feeling Claire’s warm, moist skin against his chest, her soft hand in his, the warmth eminating from where her legs met her torso.  He wanted to remember all of this. 

       Claire closed her eyes, her breath slow and heavy, matching his.  She was content- and felt totally safe for the first time since meeting Peter in Odessa.  She remembers blinking slowly, revelling in the small tinges Peter’s fingers made against her back. 

 “I love you Claire”, she heard almost inaudibly as she drifted into sleep.  

to be continued...

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Title: Not a Petrelli, Chapter 1
Characters/Pairings: Paire
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: um, in mine, I guess the "relation" is a bit AU- sexual content I guess...
Spoiler alert:  Spoilers to end of the series...nothing earth shattering.
Summary:  Peter and Claire find themselves on the run, and hours alone in a car can bring on some pretty interesting confessions.  

    
Claire’s eyes stayed down, only underneath her veil of lashes did she dare look over to the driver of the car.

      “What did you hear?” she asked him.  Peter didn’t answer, instead appeared to be moving his mouth in thought.

      “Hey- what did you hear?” she asked a little more insistently, putting her hand on his shoulder; partly for support, partly to get his attention.  He looked over at her face, quiet and pleading, and promptly turned his eyes back to the road.

      “You were right.  About Nathan.  He knows, and he’s going to let it happen.”  He gathered his hands into fists, pounding the steering wheel.

     “Dammit dammit!  I knew he was ambitious- and my mom too, but- I never thought they would take it this far!”

      Claire looked stunned, but more concerned.  “Hey listen-“she said firmly- “you didn’t know.  You didn’t know, okay?  You were just doing what you thought was right.  You trust people, you have a big heart.  You’re the only one, besides my father, in the world I trust.” 

      Peter snickered.  “Big heart huh?  Yeah you know what that is don’t you?  Means  I’m a big sucker, that’s what.”

    She shook her head in reply, replacing her hand on his shoulder. 

“Well, I must be somewhat of a “leech” too, because whenever I’m around you, I feel like you.  I want to help people.  I think back on myself 6 months ago, and I don’t recognize who I was- you saved my life in more ways than one.” With that she looked down at her fidgeting hands.  “Yet, I lie to you- I lie to everyone.”

 

He looked over at her, not finding the words to respond to her.

 

“Lie?  About what?”

Looking back up at him with big, sad eyes- “Well, I’m not Nathan’s daughter.”

The car almost swerved off the road before Peter could regain control.

“WHAT?” 

“You’re not my uncle, he’s not my father, I’m not a Petrelli!”  .

“Why would you lie?”

She looked down at her hands. 

“Well, it wasn’t my lie.  It was my father’s lie.  It was the Haitian’s lie”, she answered, looking back over at him, “And now it’s your lie.”

 

Peter stayed silent, a look of quiet shock on his face.

“But why?  Why would they do that?”

“The Petrelli’s are wealthy and powerful, and they have abilities that they don’t want anyone to know about.  Nathan is tight with Linderman- ensuring he wouldn’t hurt me.  And if course- you.”

Peter rotated the wheel for the next left turn, the street lights going by fast and hazy like fireflies.  His voice was lowered in cynicism.  “Me?”

 

“When you saved me back in Odessa, you didn’t know me.  You hadn’t met me.  Yet you were willing to die for me- and you did.  It was just luck you had the family connections.”  Claire swallowed dryly, once again looking down shamefully at her hands.  Peter didn’t say anything.

 

“If it makes a difference, I didn’t know that I wasn’t until this morning.’  She laughed roughly, glancing out the window.  “I was relieved.”

 

Peter felt a huge weight taken off of him.  He shook the hair back from his face.  “Relieved?  Why?”


”Well”, she started turning back to look into his face, “it’s not really acceptable by society to have the kinds of feelings-” as soon as the words cleared her mouth, she squeezed her eyelids shut, instantly regretting her absence of a mouth filter sometimes.

 

     Peter looked to the passenger side without moving his head.  A thousand things zapped through him at once.  He turned his eyes on the dark road ahead of him, slowing down when they reached the turnpike, already overflowing with cars.  He sighed, putting on the brakes and lying back frustrated into his seat.

     Claire still looked out the window, her fingers now nervously gathered to her teeth.  He could see her reflection in the window and softened, seeing the uncertainty on her face.

    ‘I want him to say something…anything...get the hell out of the car bitch…anything…’

    Peter brought his hands up to his eyes, rubbing them, exhaling loudly and smoothing his hair back.  He wasn’t angry at her- she didn’t do anything.  Relief.  That was an alien feeling that swept him- its been only compounded anxiety for months.  A little island of calm. 

‘Calm?  What the hell am I so calm about?  And warm, I feel warm?’

     He cleared his throat and reached out his arm for her, touching her elbow ever so slightly.  Some of her golden tendrils touched the outside of his hand, and he could, for the first time, let himself realize how soft her hair was.  Claire closed her eyes at his touch.

     “Hey- it’s okay.  I feel relieved too.  I understand- getting to know Nathan- and from your standpoint, I can’t even imagine how frustrating it must be- dealing with my mother-”

     She interrupted his ramblings, turning to him with an angry face.

     “You think that’s why I’m relieved?”  She turned back around.  Peter furrowed his brow.  She traced shapes on the window with the end of her finger, and confessed.

“Remember the day we first met?  Before you saved me?”

“Yes.”

“Before anything else, when you saw me walking by the trophy case, did you feel anything?”

“I was glad to see a cheerleader in that place-“

‘That’s not what I mean”, she replied sternly interrupting him.

Claire turned towards him.  “I mean did you feel anything?  For me?”

“Claire-“

“Cause I did.  Even before you turned around I just knew I had to talk to you.  This tall, handsome guy hanging around- someone new in a small place like Odessa.  And when we spoke, it was like I already knew you.  I was comfortable and friendly- I’m not that way around guys.  And then you died- for me.  You saved me Peter.” she said, looking deeply into his eyes. 

     Peter was hypnotized.  He couldn’t think of anything.  Ribbons of emotions were swimming through him.

“You don’t know what went through me when I found out you were my uncle- or so I thought.  I felt like the bottom fell out of me- I was in shock, and I suppose I still am.  It was if everything good I’ve felt, which hasn’t been much in the last year or so, had just been crushed…obliterated.”

     Claire looked back down at her hands.  Peter was silently reliving that day at the school in his minds eye.  It was always playing somewhere in his head.  He was trying to deny the way the “footage” would stop and replay in his mind.   How when she had smiled at him, her wonderful dazzling smile, something would happen to him.  His heart would swell- as if she was the most beautiful piece of music he had ever heard.  He felt a slight flush coming over his face and the confusion receding. He was now content to simply listen.

      “Ever since I found out about, us this morning, I’ve been wrestling with this.  Whether I should tell you.  You were the only person I thought of when I left home.  Because not telling you is almost as bad as telling you, I now realize.”  Claire looked back up into his face.

     He sat silent.  She felt her insides turn cold.  ‘Oh shit…’ she thought.

  

The cold turned anger- “will you say something?  Anything?  I can’t read minds!”

    She waited a moment before undoing her seatbelt and opening the door, the cool night air a welcome change to the stifling car.  She began walking along the shoulder.  She didn’t know where she was going or should go…but she couldn’t go back to the car now.  She laughed hysterically to herself and wiped away a tear.  She heard his footsteps before his voice.

     “CLAIRE!” he shouted, jogging to catch up. 

    Claire didn’t stop, just straightened her posture and prepared to NOT cry during the next few minutes.  He finally caught up to her, walking backwards in front of her and to the side.

    “Claire would you stop?  Would you listen, Claire?”  She didn’t reply.  “You’re not going to answer me?”

    “Now you know how it feels” she replied, bitterly.

    Peter stopped walking.

    “What do you want me to say?  Maybe I’m wrestling with “relief”, did you ever think of that?  I’ve been going around, thinking I was some sort of deviant- wanting my niece?  And beyond that, you’re just a young girl-”

      Claire swiftly turned around on one heel.  ”Just a girl?” she started as she charged towards him, “first of all, I’m eighteen in three weeks.  Second of all, do you know what I’ve been through?  You’re not the only one of us here to have been murdered- not to mention my separation from my family, attempted rape and should I list the number of times I’ve died?  Now I’m supposed to save the world!  That’s a lot of pressure Peter!   I’m the oldest teenager you’ll ever know.”  Now she was looking into his face, breathing heavily.  She was still processing the “wanting my niece” comment.  There was no answer yet.

      Peter was without words.  An hour ago he thought he’d found someone in his family as low-key as he was.  The way she scolded Nathan and his mother- no one ever talked to them like that.  He smirked.  It wasn’t ‘cause she was family- maybe it was something else- a kindred spirit. 

      He let out a sigh and looked into her flushed face.  He was breathing erratically, his voice hoarse with emotion.

     “What do you want me to say?” he started off calmly.  His shoulders dropped, his arms on her arms.  He sighed with defeat.  “That I want to hold you, make you feel safe?  That I want to know how your lips feel, if they would be as soft as they look?  I want to tell you that I love that you’re hair smells like the ocean.  That after we talked in my cell in Odessa, you turned and smiled over your shoulder, you took my breath away.  I want to grab and put you in that car and just keep driving.  Maybe Upstate, go to Niagara Falls and eat real New York apples.  Or maybe South, to the Keys, where we could make love on the beach all day and forget about explosions and Sylar and elections and paintings of the future- where I am free to look at you.”

     A few tears were running down Claire’s face again, running over her lips which were quivering into a relieved smile.  Peter put his hand to her lips, using his thumb to wipe away the tears.  She placed a small kiss when it was there.  He put both hands on the sides of her face and she aggressively beat him to it, moving in fast, kissing him.  First it was tender, but it gave way to the anticipation, the taboo- passion that had been building since the day they met.  He tasted like Mint Tea and her small, feminine tongue rubbed his.  He couldn’t get enough- he was too hungry.  He breathed in deeply, wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her tightly against his chest, exhaling with a moan as his hands got lost in the wavy tendrils. 

     “WHOO-HOO! YEAH!” a scream came from a passing car and they broke away.  They laughed first, their foreheads touching before opening their eyes to look at each other.  She was scared to at first, this kiss being more than any other she had ever had- her body felt hollow, like a barrel, but vibrated with excitement, happiness and a fire in the pit of her stomach.  She didn’t want it to end. 

      Peter put his arm around her shoulder, and they started walking back towards the car. 

     “Do you think, he would expect us NOT to run?” Claire asked him, her eyes glinting with the neon sign of a tacky hotel just off the turnpike.

     “What do you mean?” Peter responded, looking at her questioningly.   They stopped, and with a small smile, she nodded her head towards the hotel.  He looked behind him, seeing the hotel.  He turned back around.

     She responded before he could.  “He’s expecting us to run, right?  There’s no way he would think we would be staying put, especially in a cheesy place like that.”

     He had to admit- it made sense, in a really weird, reverse-psychology sort of way.  He nodded and as soon as they made it back to their car, they turned onto the shoulder and headed for the next exit.

to be continued...

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