After a quick, silent ride in the Camaro, Peter carried Marcy up the stairs to her apartment. His back ached with strain, the weakened muscles in his calves cramped, but he kept his mouth tightly shut. Marcy was still incapable of movement. Her eyes were glazed over and her skin had taken on a frighteningly pale hue.
With a frown, he asked, "Can you stand?"
"I…" the woman swallowed with visible difficulty before letting out a shaky breath. "No."
Her body slumped against his shoulder as he began to search through her pockets. When he came across the petri dish filled with Kanima venom, he eyed it but interest but didn't pause. Just shoved it into his own pocket and carried on. When he found them, Peter opened the door with one hand. He used the other to keep her upright, his arm wrapped carefully around her waist as he led her inside. The man steered her toward the bedroom with as much grace as he could manage. He may have been unable to outright carry her anymore, but Peter managed to support most of her weight without too much trouble.
"Easy," He warned, watching her ankles twitch and jerk in an attempt to stand on her own. The former Alpha laid her down on the bed, mindful not to jostle her too much. Marcy's bloodshot blue eyes never left his face as he slipped the flats off her feet. Extending his claws, he dug them into the heel of her ankle. "Can you feel that?"
A sharp hiss answered his question and with an impish grin, Peter stood. His gaze raked over her prone form; her dark hair was wild, her expression lax but eyes sharp. They grew sharper as he trailed his clawed hand down the front of her light blue cardigan; his thumb slicing through the thin threads that held the buttons along the way to the waist of her khakis. He brushed over the zipper of them absently, but his eyes didn't leave hers as he spoke.
"You know, when I first came back I had expected a warmer welcome from you, too." The man confessed as he knelt on the bed with his knees framing her hips.
Flipping the scarps of her now destroyed sweater back, he pursed his lips. Her breathing was uneven and rushed and he could feel her trying to struggle beneath him. Peter let her bear some of his weight, effectively pinning her with his body as he began to cut off the buttons of her white Oxford.
A low growl made him pause. "Stop."
At her hoarse command, Peter arched a brow. The familiar scent of anxiety rose from her, but given that she was still mostly unable to move, he was hardly concerned. "Now why would I do something like that?"
"Get…off." The woman huffed, her lips pulled back in a sneer as she tried to catch her breath.
"Oh, I intend to." He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her brow. After absently scenting her, the former Alpha nipped at her jaw. Letting his teeth linger over her pulse in warning, he cooed, "Just relax."
As he peeled away the shredded remains of her shirt, Peter was surprised to find that his little Beta had acquired another tattoo. Cupping both sides of her ribcage with greedy hands, he eyed the wolf that adorned the right side, just below her breast. Some of it was obscured by her black bra, a wrong he was quick to right with a slash of his claws. With less than gentle fingers, he pushed the scrap of lace away. The touch lingered however, the pad of his thumb brushing over the pebbled skin of her nipple until it was taut and peaked.
Once more he leaned down, his nose nudging the pink bud absently. His teeth catching her piercing and giving the peaked flesh a kittenish lick before he returned his attention to her tattoo. A hint of arousal seeped into her cautious scent, a subtle change that made his pupils dilate and his mouth water. Gaze never leaving the new ink, he asked quietly, "Is this supposed to be me?"
Marcy managed a weak scoff. "Does it have-" A wince interrupted her, but she regained her strength after a second, "your name on it?"
"No…" He trailed his fingers up to her breast and gave her nipple an absent pinch and the barbell a tug.
"Then I guess not." Her breathing had grown steady and she was now able to move her knees, although just barely.
Peter let out a hum of disappointment, or perhaps disbelief, as he trailed the fingers of the hand not preoccupied by her breast, along the black swirls. Not wanting to mar the inked, but still perfect, skin with his claws, he moved them over her stomach. The flesh under his fingertips was warm to the touch and moist with a hint of nervous sweat as he grasped the waist of her pants. A firm yank forced them over her hips; the scrape of the material against her sensitive skin earning a low groan from the woman that Peter paid no mind to.
Marcy's hand managed to catch hold of his knee. Her claws were out in an attempt to cut, but she wasn't able to get a proper grip. His attention drawn to them, the former Alpha quickly grabbed her wrist and pinned it above her head. Peter smirked down at her, clearly pleased to have the upper hand in her sluggish state. Another growl escaped her lips at his smug smile. Without warning, her neck snapped forward, knocking their lips together in a rough kiss.
One hand tangling in her thick hair, he pulled her back. Forced against the mattress once more, the woman cursed her body's uncooperative state, but didn't bear to tear her gaze from his. His eyes glowed a feral blue, her own a bright yellow as they regarded each other. Peter's gaze glinted in amusement, Marcy's with frustration.
"Feeling better?" He asked with a teasing grin. Marcy only glared.
His cheek brushed against hers, his goatee scratching her skin and earning a shudder as her teeth caught his jaw in a gentle bite. To his surprise, her unrestrained hands slipped over his sides. He could feel the heaviness in her limbs, the Kanima venom making each movement slow and dull despite her claws. Despite her hesitance, and annoyance, the Omega had missed being intimate with him. Missed his smell and strength- even if it was terribly depleted at the moment. Her hands fell back to her sides after a moment of soft caresses, but her lips continued to brush over the warm skin of his thick neck. Her fang grazing his steady pulse, she let out a soft sigh of contentment as he blanketed his larger form over her own. They kissed softly a moment, all gentle hands and sweet murmurs before they separated.
"I'll take that as a yes." Peter leaned back just long enough to pull off his shirt.
He tossed it aside as the Omega's hands crept up his thighs, one of them bold enough to palm the erection straining against his zipper. Her nails once again human, she dragged them over the denim with a smirk, pleased by his quiet sigh and shudder. Wrist still limp, but fingers growing stronger with each passing second, Marcy ran them over the outline of his cock in a teasing, gentle manner. Pleased by his bright eyes and ragged breathes, the woman continued to touch and stroke him while she eyed his torso appreciatively.
It was odd, seeing Peter's skin perfect and pale instead of waxy and charred. His burns had healed the last time she had seen him, true, but it was still an odd sight to her. Feeling her muscles wake, Marcella eased up on to her elbows as she undid his jeans. At his appreciative groan, she sat up further. She nosed at the broad plains of his chest with approval, her tongue darting out to taste the salt on his skin and the arousal in the air before he took control once more. His hand cupped the back of her neck, tangling his fingers at the base of her hairline as he lowered her back to the bed.
Cooing at her pout, Peter took her face in his hands. "Aw. Don't worry, Marcella. I'll take good care of you."
Grinning at him sardonically, she replied, "You always do."
The man ignored her sarcasm and rubbed their cheeks together affectionately, marking her as his own before he pressed a firm, wanton kiss to her lips. Prying them open with a demanding tongue, the former Alpha forced her back onto the mattress with his hips.
"Always ruin my fun, too," She muttered under her breath as he moved down to her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed when he began to suck at her pulse.
With one arm supporting his weight, Peter managed to tug her khakis down low enough for her to kick off. Nuzzling his scruffy chin against her bare shoulder, he asked her with a hint of fang in his smile, "You're not having fun?"
She remained quiet. He would have to do something about that. A hand moved down to cup her naked sex, his thumb teasing the soft folds and circling her clit with a sharp claw. When it came across the silver ring embedded in it, he arched a brow. "My, my, Marcella. You have been busy, haven't you?"
Slipping his claw through the piercing, he gave it an experiment pull. At her gasp, the man beamed. "Are you sure you're not having fun?"
"Ugh, you're-" Marcy shuddered, arching her back as two of his thick, calloused fingers slipped in her slick cunt without warning. The familiar, wonderful sting of being stretched, along with the faint but still detectable scent of blood in the air made her pant.
"I'm?" The man prompted, moving his fingers in and out of her in steady, rough pumps, her new piercing all but forgotten for the moment.
Back arching and eyes fluttering, she murmured, "Such a tease."
Peter shrugged and eyed her breasts, but only gave his fingers a harsh thrust in reply. The flick of his wrist was enough to earn a needy mew from the Omega. Her hands tangled in his dark hair and she pulled him in for another greedy kiss. He held out with only a hairsbreadth between them; his gaze drinking in her yellowed eyes and colored cheeks, flushed pink with arousal. With slow, deliberate strokes, he thumbed her clit, enjoying the way she clenched around his fingers and the soft noises she made in the back of her throat. A more genuine smile tugged at his lips; he had missed those noises, missed her sharp words and soft laughter in the night.
"Peter," Marcy growled as one of her legs moved to catch him by the waist. Apparently the venom had finally been purged from her system. "You've got your dick out. Use it."
Happy to oblige, the man kicked off his pants and let his fingers drift from her pussy to her hip. He caught sight on the juices on them and licked them clean, giving the panting woman beneath him a show. A hint of her blood was still on his lips when he kissed her, surprisingly slow and sweet, something that went completely against the harsh snap of his hips that sheathed him in her tight heat.
It was good to be home.
A/N: Sorry for the wait! I had some beta issues, plus my schedule has been all kinds of fucked up.