Title: Post-Coitus Christmas
Characters: Peter, Claire
Spoilers: None...I guess this is AU
Rating: R, M-mature
Summary: Frellingblonde has requested "fluffy and/or smutty Paire". I so knew she'd request that, I already had a bunny in mind!
"Wow."
The scent of pine needles was heavy in the air, but just underneath was the slick smell of sweat and sex. The fire crackled but it couldn't hide the sounds of moaning and grunting that emitted from the tangled couple on the rug before it.
Hands grasped and bruised easily, the fervent passion preventing gentleness in any form as they both struggled to come out on top, literally.
Peter ultimately won out, his strength far greater than that of his petite wife.
His weight was deliciously heavy on her torso as he nipped at her neck and slowly slid up her body until he was poised at her entrance. Claire twisted beneath him, struggling to move, to achieve some sense of satisfaction.
Peter's eyes rolled up until he could see her face, her flushed but still beautiful face.
He pressed his mouth to the racing pulse point in her neck as he slid himself deep inside her.
He wondered if he imagined that her heart skipped a beat as he did so.
"Peter?"
He wasn't too large, didn't brush her cervix painfully as she'd been told some men could do. Her mother had been very thorough as she'd explained the facts of life to her, and Claire had known more than most what to expect.
He wasn't too large or too wide, too rough or too gentle.
Peter was just right.
She stretched her body as much as she could, feeling her muscles strain and then relax around him. He managed to make her feel like a breathing pulse point, her entire body thrumming with the energy he alone could evoke from deep within her.
Their bodies fit as if they'd been made for each other, a niche for her every curve, a softness to his every hard. His hands in her hair made her coo in pleasure, even as the feel of his slightly hairy legs rubbing against her smooth ones made her purr at the contrast.
She was a girl, forever a girl, but he was a man.
Her man.
"Wow."
Peter suddenly rolled over, pulling her on top and watching with fascinating as she sat up self-consciously. She crossed her arms over her chest, a needless exercise since her hair more than covered her. She glanced around before looking down at him irritated.
She opened her mouth to say something, to scold him, but at that moment Peter bucked his hips, lifting her up several inches before easing back down. Claire's mouth hissed out her pleasure and her hands fell to his hips without realizing. She instinctively rose up above him and slid back down experimentally.
Pleasure sliced through her, stealing her breath and her head fell back, taking her hair with it, as she began to slowly repeat her movements.
Up and down, her chest heaving as she began to pant with the effort. Peter wrapped his artist's fingers, long and tapered, around her legs and felt the rigid muscles there flex. He gripped them and watched this golden beauty moved uninhibited above him.
He had never seen anything more beautiful.
"Peter."
Claire felt the knot within her suddenly clench tighter, gasping from the sharp and almost painful sensation of it. Her back bent and her head spilled forward, pressing against Peter's chest even as her hips slowed to a crawl. Her hands shook as she pressed them against his shoulders. She wanted to continue to move, wanted to feel the pleasure this activity brought her, but she was suddenly unsure if she could move anymore.
She was afraid but she didn't know exactly what she was afraid of.
Was it fear of loss of control? Fear of the feelings inside of her? Fear of the pleasure that was wiping out all of her thoughts?
Peter felt her emotions, felt them warring within her, and knew that she was unsure of what she was supposed to do. She was unsure of what was to come.
He slowly rolled them over, careful not to disturb the placement of their bodies as he did so. He levied himself above her on one hand, using the other to caress her cheek before sliding back to grip the back of her head. He pulled her up, pressing his mouth to hers fiercely.
As he did, he moved out of her, her body protesting and trying to hold him in moistly but ineffectively.
Then he thrust back into her hard, and it was enough.
Claire fell over the edge, shaking and screaming with pleasure, and dragged him over with her.
"Wow."
"Can you please say something other than 'wow', Mr. Petrelli?"
The fire had faded from raging glory to mellow heat but neither of them minded. The heat from their coupling kept them warm on the cold New York night and drowsiness was keeping them content.
They lay there together, unseeing eyes staring blankly as their thoughts slowed to a crawl. Peter's fingers brushed over her back, again and again in comforting regularity. Her hair tickled his nose and every few seconds his nose would twitch.
Claire's head was resting on his chest but her eyes were resting on her left hand.
On her ring finger, where Peter's ring was glinting in the dull light.
It was their wedding night, cliché as it was, it was also Christmas Eve.
Their first Christmas together.
"Yowza, Mrs. Petrelli."
The first of many to come.
"Merry Christmas, Peter."