Time for the final chapter!
Wonders of Depigmentation has traversed a long road from being merely a weird idea on my mind in 2013, then it was on a humongous break from which it almost didn't recover…
Now many years later, its revival and completion happened!
I guess I don't like loose endings :)
I do hope you enjoyed these last 10 chapters I added along the past 20 days, thus ending my fourth Fringeverse story.
Happy reading!
OLIVIA sized Peter up from head to toe as he finally emerged from the brightly lit hospital hallway, with the familiar duffel bag carelessly hanging from his shoulder.
He looked tired, and a bit confused, as he was dragging his feet grumpily towards her; Olivia concluded, with sadness, that some cuts and bruises were still there on his face.
Everything we have ever gone through will remain etched on our bodies and on our mind forever, or so it seems, went through her head as she uncomfortably reached back and touched the centre of her spine.
Pushing such depressive thoughts aside, she hurriedly reached Peter in three long strides, and inquired in sotto voce:
-So, ready for your big day? Time to finally get you out of here-she winked conspiratorially.
-Ready as I'll ever be-he gave her a non-committal shrug and one of the unequivocally Bishop manufactured, unique thumbprint smiles. -I mean, it has been a month-he scratched his nape uncomfortably. –The mattress I was lying on will have perfectly imitated the shape of my body by now-Peter grunted, and then yawned. –By the way…Where is Walter?-he turned around looking for the familiar sight of his father. –I mean, it is always a bonus that I get to enjoy some Walter-free moments and save myself from my father…Walking embarrassment; if he were here he would probably start yelling, jumping around and frightening the staff-Peter chuckled. –And yet… I thought he will be thrilled to see me out.
That's his way to say he missed his father, Olivia thought, with a small smile.
-He is working on a new case. We both are but I…I took a break-she informed him, putting him up to date. She could see a surprise expression forming on Peter's face and imagined the words forming in his head "Special Agent Olivia Dunham taking a break from the case for me?"
He said nothing of the sort thought, just nodded in appreciation and even though Olivia knew that was nothing like Peter, she understood his cautious reaction and preference to leave the jokes aside, so she went on.
–Some…teenager was found dead in his room, in front of the computer screen this morning. Walter is in the lab, analysing the body. Until he tells me something, I have nothing, no lead to go on or to possibly comprehend what might have happened to him. Charlie is talking to his closest family as we speak.
-Well, that sounds gruesome.
-Broyles called to say…-she put her hands in her pockets, looking at him with a sly smile. –He is glad that you recovered and his giving you a free day today; but he expects you out and about tomorrow morning. Helping out your father.
-Ahh, the joys of being a Fringie are simply never-ending, are they?-Peter stretched, shaking his head.
-A Fringie?-Olivia raised her eyebrow.
-You know, member of a Fringe division. I coined that word just now. I think it's appropriate, don't you?
Olivia chuckled at his creativity.
-We missed you, Peter-she inhaled and exhaled deeply, not quite looking him in the eye. She hoped everything that she felt and wanted to say had fit in those four words.
-I don't see how you could have missed me, 'Livia-he snorted, teasing her good-naturedly. –You were clinging to my bedside every day.
She bumped him on the shoulder, mildly irritated.
-I meant, in the lab. Case-related-Olivia cleared her throat.
-Of course you did. It's not the same without me. Yours truly always had the know-how to lift team spirits, mostly by goofing around and acting like a clown, but…Well. You catch my drift.
-I am very glad you fully recovered-she added, turning towards the desk receptionist.
As she was signing the papers for his hospital discharge, Olivia still managed to cast an upward glance in his direction.
She found he was already staring at her with an unexplainable expression of...
Hunger? Need?
Their eyes collided and something inside Olivia flinched and melted simultaneously at his tender and shy gaze that wouldn't release her from its holds.
It wasn't like Peter at all, to be so timid and withdrawn, awaiting for her signals, giving her initiative.
Along these months they've known each other, he was all flashy and toothy grins, inappropriate jokes, reckless behaviour, outbursts of anger and sarcasm and devil-may-care demeanour.
Not to mention how he selfishly took me, took my body whenever he wanted to, just because he could-a mixture of anger and sorrow was clearly visible on her face as she forced herself to try to expel those thoughts, like she promised she would do for them both.
Turning around to face Peter yet again, Olivia thought how he looked incredibly cautious around her still, as if he were walking on eggshells.
Peter Bishop was obviously trying his damnedest not to screw anything up ever since he got on her good side.
During the last three weeks he had spent cooped up in a hospital room, she would come and visit him every single day, sit next to him and scan his face and his chest, looking for the sign of retrieval of the wounds he selflessly received to protect her.
They confined themselves mostly to the light, harmless banter, filled with mutual tender teasing and gossip about Walter and Fringe Division occurrences.
Hug they shared on the day his bullet was taken out didn't occur again.
Both avoided thinking and let alone talking about those two months where they had wild, uninhibited sex as Olivia and "Eugene", slamming into each other hungrily and animalistically.
Mostly because they wished a new beginning and were grateful for the new chance they got-to bond from the start.
Peter's caution simultaneously amused the blonde FBI agent and made her sad.
She liked his reverential tone and conduct, there was no denying it; but, at the same time, Olivia Dunham wished for him to be able to relax in her company.
It was something he simply wasn't able to do lately, and she didn't' want it to be always like that between them.
Sensing her nervousness, Peter turned to face her:
-What?-he inquired with a tender, boyish tone of voice, exhibiting mild curiosity at Olivia's behaviour.
-It's…Nothing-she blushed.
-Okay-he whispered warily and managed a small smile, running his gaze over her face inquisitively; it seemed as if he wouldn't push it. –Okay-he said once again as if refraining himself from commenting further.
Peter was now all fear and consideration, she could see that; he was fighting his curiosity and letting her take the lead in everything.
Olivia noticed him swallow but then he speedily glanced away from her, considering the conversation closed. She appreciated the wait, his now impeccable manner and the message it unequivocally transmitted: "you will tell me when you are ready."
His guilt is still eating him from the inside out.
-You know what?-Olivia gave a sharp nod as if confirming her own train of thoughts that was about to spew out of her mouth, reassuring herself.
Peter turned to look at her once again, patience mirrored on his face.
-We should go there now.
-There being….-he spread out his palms, his eyes reflecting confusion.
-My place-she could see his ears redden instantaneously as soon as those words reached him.
-What, you mean like, your apartment?-Peter inquired in low whisper, now scratching at his stubble uncomfortably.
-Mhm-was her short, decisive answer.
-Olivia…
-You know, go to where it all began. Talk about it; face the inevitable-she sounded self-assured.
-You…-his breath caught-you really think it's a good idea to…to put you, put us, through that?
-You think I won't be able to handle it?
-What…You think that you could?-he attacked her question with his own, looking at her pleadingly, wonderingly.
-Well, I was thinking that it's all unresolved-words abandoned her hastily just like bullets normally left her Glock. –For you…for me…Peter…I was thinking that it must be hard for both of us, too, to come back…To come back together to a place where we…Where it all happened-it was her turn to swallow.
-What's your point?-he inquired warily, massaging his temples.
-That you underestimate me. Both of us, really. And you shouldn't.
-No-he managed to utter defensively. –I really don't. Underestimate you. I understand you, Olivia. I don't know how or when, but I have come to understand you, comprehend the core of your being. Sometimes, more than I want to. Look…-his tone of voice became even more fidgety and scared-if we-Peter shook his head slightly as if he didn't even want to imagine the possibilities-if we go there together….Everything will come back to you. You are just going to accuse me again of doing…What I did…As "Eugene". And you would be right to do so, of course-he hurried on to explain. –'Livia… it will all return to haunt us.
-But…-she bit on her lower lip, hard, and that elicited alertness in his eyes-it would…erase the previous memories of us…there. Or maybe even turn them into something bittersweet. I'm just saying that…I know what it's like to live with something unresolved. And I don't want this…us…To be that something, Peter. This could provide closure for us. We have both had to live with the choices we made regarding our past situation. Who's to say this wouldn't be a resolution for us?
-Olivia…-Peter tried to fight what he knew was a losing battle, one last time…-If I didn't know you better, I'd think you actually want to have a nervous breakdown.
-Then maybe you don't know better-she finally snapped. –Because I care about this…About us…too. And I believe that…Running and shielding me from the truth, from what's real, ultimately does my psyche a disservice. I want us to create new memories that will…Expulse or at least embellish the previous ones-was her frustrated replica.
Peter tentatively reached for her, pulling her into his embrace and it affected her immediately. Olivia relaxed under his chin and let out a deep sigh.
-I see where you are coming from-he agreed quietly. –But, Olivia…I…uh…wanted to say that I…-Peter made an impossibly long break, so long that she wondered whether he will speak up again, as Peter was peppering her hair with careful kisses. –I never had…you…in my life. Not like this. And now, thanks to the numerous inexplicable coincidences and lucky circumstances that gave me a second chance…I do. Have you in my life. And I think that… I am…I think that I am a little scared. And maybe if we…Go to your apartment and you remember how…And it all comes back… -he got lost in his train of hesitant, short sentences. –Look…Whatever. I…I am sorry. You are right. If this is how you feel, if this is…what you wish…what you think you need… Then we will do it.
-Peter-she separated from him, looking at his eyes with immense gratitude. –Thank you.
He nodded almost imperceptibly, acknowledging her gesture, but the crease on his forehead didn't vanish altogether.
When he spoke again, his voice was nothing but dorky, with a hint of underlying mocking tones:
-And, you know, you might actually be right from the scientific point of view. There are certain theories that claim the following: to get rid of fear, you must first embrace it. Listen to this:
"A story about the Nobel winning writer Isaac Bashevis-Singer has him resting at home after receiving news of his award. A reporter appears at his door:
"Mr. Bashevis-Singer, are you surprised? Are you happy?"
"Of course," answers the elderly writer, "I am very surprised and happy."
Ten minutes later, another reporter appears:
"Mr. Bashevis-Singer, are you surprised? Are you happy?"
"How long can a man remain surprised and happy?" comes the reply."
Olivia smiled at his rant, subconsciously enjoying him in full-on scientist mode.
-This anecdote illustrates the mechanism of habituation. It's how our nervous system arousal decreases on repeated exposure to the same stimulus. This is sort of hard-wired into the human genetic program and it has a clear adaptive value, because habituation to familiar stimuli allows more energy to be directed to novel stimuli, hence improving the odds of survival. But…To cut the long story short-it can be used to treat anxiety.
-Like the one I might feel once we go to my place together?
-Precisely. Most of the people, myself included, attempt to cope with feeling of anxiety by avoiding situations or objects that elicit the feelings. Avoidance, however, sort of prevents your nervous system from habituating. What is more, it guarantees that the feared object or situation will remain novel, hence-arousing, hence-anxiety provoking-he gesticulated as he went on explaining and her gaze focused on his elongated piano fingers.
-You sound just like your father-Olivia was now grinning widely.
-Aww… come on, don't say that-Peter retorted exasperatedly but she could clearly see he was not all against the supposition she had just exposed. –But yeah, you're right about facing your fear. The only way out is through. If you're anxious about spiders, you will have to handle spiders. If you're scared of the elevator, you will have to ride the elevator repeatedly. Like… If a dude is terrified of cats, he should be placed alone in the room with a kitten. Of course, confronting your fear produces a lot of initial anxiety but you just have to endure and stay in the feared situation, with that…heightened fear response until it begins to subside, which it will, because it must, by…By design.
-Then we will be alright-she inhaled with relief.
-Eventually, yes. I just…I didn't want you going through all that so soon after it happened, 'Livia.
-The sooner I leave it behind, the better-she squeezed his hand in hers.
-In that case… Shall we?-he made a sardonic bow and they left Boston General.
PETER hesitated at the doorstep of the apartment, staring at the oh-so-familiar door he had traversed as an Inviso-man more than dozen of times in the last two months.
It's strange but, I think I have actually been in her apartment as myself only once.
When her…When her stepfather was in town and then Olivia called me after I had apprehended him as Eugene.
I had just materialized in the men's room of the nearest bar-he winced uncomfortably at the memory of the intestinal and…well…overall bodily pain he had experienced way back when.
Olivia was now standing on the threshold and he thought how strange, how funny it all was, for them to be separated by a simple wooden plank and yet they were.
She belonged in that apartment.
He didn't.
Not after what he did to her. He let out a deep sigh and his head hung low only to meet her expectant, tender gaze when he looked back up.
-Peter. Come on in-her voice now sounded positively trembling and her invitation came out more as a whisper than as anything else.
Peter followed her to the living room wordlessly, hugging himself.
It has already started affecting us both.
He gulped at having noticed a tidily ordered stack of Barry White CDs on the shelf in her living room, recalling how it all began.
Cheerful chirping of two parakeets, Lemondrop and Bluebell, didn't help much to ease his nervousness.
Olivia traced his gaze towards the cage.
-They are getting along great-she stated with an amused look on her face. –The idea to buy her was really something.
-I…I am glad-Peter had no words for more.
I still remember how I used to scare Lemondrop during my first visits to Olivia's place. Then, that thankfully change into changing the paper in his cage and replenish his water and food supply.
Hope he doesn't hold the grudge.
-You want me to let them fly loose?-there was a hint of mischief in what she said and Peter shook his head with a chuckle.
-If her behaviour at our beach house was an indicator, Bluebell would probably immediately fly towards my eyes or my ears and she would peck me to death. Not that I wouldn't deserve it, mind you-he looked uncomfortable.
-So…How does it feel?-Olivia inquired, observing him as he lowered the duffel bag on the floor.
-It's hard to say. There is an onset, an invasion of memories, both good and shameful. And at this point, I just wish for the former ones to overpower the latter.
-I want that too, Peter-she muttered. –Anything I can get you to drink?
-It's a little early to be drinking, wouldn't you say, Agent Dunham?-he teased her good-naturedly.
Peter felt as if he had eight arms instead of two. He just didn't know what to do with his hands so he sat on the sofa and laid them in his lap, wriggling his fingers. His foot was tapping impatiently on her carpet.
I look more nervous than she does but Olivia probably feels incredibly uneasyas well.
-So how about some late breakfast? I imagine the hospital food wasn't to your liking during these couple of weeks-her conspiratorial smile said it all.
-You are reading my thoughts, Olivia, yet… I know you are a cornflakes girl and I'm just not a cornflakes guy. That was always more Walter.
-Who said anything about cornflakes?-her eyebrow shot up into the air quizzically.
Olivia is teasing me-the first real smile crossed his face in what he felt like hours.
Peter craned his neck following her movement towards the kitchen.
She never ceases to surprise me.
When she emerged back with the tray, Peter almost couldn't believe his eyes.
-Whoa, whoa, whoa? Are those…Chocolate-dipped peanut butter stout chocolate chip cookies?
-You know your cookies, alright-Olivia couldn't suppress a smile.
-Are you kidding? These have got to be among the top three of my favourites. I mean…Taking cookies that already have beer, chocolate chips, and peanut butter, and dipping them in chocolate may seem like you're going too far. But you're not. Trust me-he eagerly dipped his hand among the baked goodness and swiftly grabbed two at the same time, shovelling them into his mouth. –Mmm. Now that's what heaven tastes like.
When he glanced upwards, he found Olivia standing above him, beaming, with an incredibly tender expression on her face. Peter coughed nervously and a cookie almost blocked his airways. When he recovered from their "supersonic eye collision", as he called it in his mind, he mustered up the strength to talk to her.
-Anyway…I didn't know you baked? Although, I have been known to have been wrong on several occasions, starting from the obviously erroneous assumption you don't eat at all-he chortled.
-What…You imagined I am some kind of alien species that only lived on air?-Olivia found that entertaining.
-You are not far from the truth, actually.
-Well, as you can see, I can bake. I am also a fairly good cook. Just didn't have time to show off my culinary skills-Olivia giggled.
Peter started relaxing in the atmosphere of their friendly banter as Olivia went on.
-My sister, on the other hand…She mostly prepares pasta but not even that turns out right when she sets her mind on cooking. The sauce is almost always burnt to crisp and the spaghetti are either overcooked or undercooked… Still, she tries hard.
-I didn't know you had a sister-Peter eased her into the continuation of conversation on that particular topic.
-Yeah-Olivia nodded matter-of-factly; Rachel, she is my younger sister. She is actually spending some time here with me and her daughter… Marital problems-Olivia blushed and refused to elaborate further on and Peter knew better than to pressurize her. –They are visiting friends of Rachel but will be back in the afternoon.
Peter cleared his throat at that information.
We might be alone in here for hours.
Olivia noticed his blank stare towards the hallway and her eyes froze when she realized where he was looking.
-The mirror?-she inquired, as the tone of her voice grew a bit more anxious.
-Yes-he merely nodded, swallowing.
-You used to hold me in front of it when…-Olivia couldn't finish the sentence and raised her hands to her throat where red patches were already showing.
She sounds so apprehensive. I must… Try and say something positive so that she would… Associate it with something good.
For what it's worth.
-I know-there was immeasurable sorrow in his words. –I used to… Just stare at you, at your…perfect reflection and imagine me, real me, holding you like that. You were so immaculate and vulnerable-his voice trailed off and Peter realized, with wonder, that he was crying without having noticed it.
Silent tears just ran down his cheeks and got lost somewhere below his chin.
They were his own salty river that meandered downwards ending up who knows where.
Olivia's stiff gaze that was staring somewhere above his head, as her body was slightly shaking, was replaced by a concerned one.
She approached him and his innocent baby-blue eyes.
Their colour was somehow even clearer now, when he was crying.
-I feel so fucking guilty, Olivia. You… I had no right to… I broke you, I disrespected you. Look how you got, how you tremble at the mere thought of what we did in here. We should have never come to your apartment in the first place. Oh God… Will you ever be able to forgive me for real? I realize something now: I can't even forgive myself-he sobbed, grabbing the lapels of her shirt and hiding his head on her chest, kneeling in front of her, begging for pardon.
Olivia sensed her shirt was getting wetter and wetter by the second and she helped him get up, as tears also gathered in the corner of her eyes.
-Peter…Please. Let's…Try and fight it. Create new memories, create something beautiful to hold onto this time.
The mad scientist's son headed her call as he got up insecurely, his knees trembling and wobbly.
He picked her up in his arms as if she were made of straw, and it was a perfect fit, as always; Olivia felt safe cradled on his palms, like a breakable little porcelain doll.
No man could ever make her feel petite and fragile as quite as Peter.
-Take me there-Olivia whispered barely audibly and Peter closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down during a lot of time.
He knew exactly where she wanted to be taken.
After all, that was my ingenious scientific techno babble idea.
When he finally gathered his strength to carry her away to oh-so-familiar-surrounding of her bedroom and place her on the bed, as he sat on its edge next to her, the first thing Peter thought of was how it looked when it was ransacked by her stepfather. How angry it made him.
His back turned to Olivia, he was reliving the agony and fear of that moment, reminiscing about the split second in which he had almost murdered the man.
Olivia could see his shoulders tense.
-What is it? Should we go? Is it…making you uncomfortable? I also feel incredibly anxious, Peter, but I am holding up, somehow... I was thinking of trying this… Full immersion technique you mentioned. I want to do it.
-I know. It's…It's not that. I mean-Peter couldn't recognize himself, that's how incoherent he sounded. –I remembered my altercation with George Morant-he muttered, embittered.
-Oh-Olivia hadn't expected that to be his first association with her bedroom. –I wasn't thinking about him at all. Seeing how my birthday passed couple of months ago, I thought I would afford myself a luxury of not thinking about him at all, not until next October, at least.
He turned around slowly, getting used to being in her sleeping chamber again, not daring to move much, let alone breathe.
-What is it you thought of first? You know, when you… Entered here with me?
She seems strangely at peace.
God. How could she just expel all bad memories related to what I did to her.
-Well…-she paused, a wide smile travelling all over her face.
Peter had a feeling Olivia spoke deliberately slowly to give herself time to muse on what she was going to say.
Then, quite an unexpected replica came out of her mouth.
-I remembered our little incident with Glock and you jumping out of the window-she chuckled.
She seems to find it genuinely amusing.
-I was scared shitless-he admitted. –The way you held that gun, I thought you knew for sure where I was. Thought I was done for. The only thing I could think of, was to escape, and thankfully, I managed to remember that I could actually go through solid objects, such as… Your window.
-That was smart-she complimented him on his invention, although still seeming a bit stiff. –So how does it feel?-Olivia's next question surprised him.
-How does what feel?-Peter inquired cautiously.
-Passing through the glass-there was real curiosity lodged deep inside her insecure voice.
-Ugh… Believe me, you don't really want to experience that.
-You didn't have to either. You didn't have to do any of this, Peter.
-I know. I am sorry-he thought that, by now, he must sound like a broken record to her, but she merely smiled sadly, and nodded, acknowledging his apology.
-Another thing I remember, Peter, is the second time you came to see me as Eugene.
-Oh?-his both eyebrows were raised. –Our first conversation?
-Yes. I found it fascinating. The way you explained the reason for your invisibility-she added hastily to clarify her declaration.
-It was all just falsely made up on the go-he held his head between his hands. –If you remember, I overheard you and Walter in the lab some days before that, and he offered you two plausible reasons for the Inviso-state-serum or genetic anomaly-his tired, upset voice reverberated around her room.
Peter still didn't dare to turn around, to look at her.
I don't even deserve to be in the same room as Olivia.
-So you made me think you were a victim of genetic anomaly to distract me from the other possibility?-she bit on her lower lip and for some reason seemed irritated.
-I am not proud of what I did.
-That was actually pretty smart. And I am angry with myself, you know? I shouldn't have accepted that explanation, I should have doubted you more.
-I guess I was a bastard who played on your "pity card"-he gulped and his voice broke again.
I have wallowed in self-pity for so long but I am getting what was long overdue.
I deserve it all, and then some more.
-Peter-he felt her tentative hand on his right shoulder and he reached behind, grasping it with his left palm.
She is trying to console me, even now. Even after everything I did.
-Look, Olivia. This place… And your apartment in general. It just reminds me of how much I am not worthy of you. I know that. And I never will be. But I…I want to make an effort. I don't wanna do anything to jeopardize this... he motioned around; what we have created, this little family unit we've got going on. You, me, Walter, Astrid. So… I wish to re-establish your trust in me. I have already told you countless times: I will do anything you want me to. I would never do it again. Never hurt you in such a way.
He finally managed to turn around and face her olive green eyes.
He was instantly captured in their gold-specked depths, as a puny, insignificant insect who had just been trapped in godlike amber and would now remain there for the millennia to come.
Peter thought that indeed, he could never do such a vile thing again; looking at her honest and trustful face.
-Dammit. I was supposed to look after you. And I failed. And… ended up being the one who was hurting you because of my arrogance, anger and impatience. I never realized that... The only one I was angry with was with myself because I noticed I was changing next to you. I should have waited.
-Peter. There is one thing that I know. I have proof now you are willing to prove yourself to me, day after day. I can see how much you care, how much you will do for me, for us. And that is something I can never take lightly. Your devotion to your father. To this…insane job we are doing…I have never failed to notice it, rest assured. I know your repentance is honest. Also, don't forget that Walter underlined how… Serum lowers inhibitions and alters brain chemistry-so your violence and increased sex drive perhaps stemmed from the serum intake as well. It wasn't one hundred percent you all along.
-'Livia-her name came out of his mouth as a whisper. –I've never met anyone who could do the things that you do. I saw it during many cases we shared together and I see it now. You…listen to the poisoned person so carefully, with such intensity and attention and then just…suck out the venom and the darkness with your words, with your…compassion. Until there is nothing left but inner peace, bliss and…-Peter sighed-serenity.
His head then lowered downwards, and there was a poignant, repentant twinkle in his eye as his huge palm cradled her head, bringing her closer.
Olivia's lips moved upwards on their own accord and he eagerly engulfed her, swallowing her whole, as both of their hearts started pounding like crazy.
She inhaled the aquatic smell of his aftershave, wondering where she had smelled it before; running her fingers through his hair, tasting the oh-so-familiar minty breeze and saline water on her lips as Peter plundered her mouth without letting her breathe.
It all felt like a huge déjà vu for her, and Olivia suddenly heard his words inside her head:
"I've cared about you more than I've ever cared about any other woman. I've waited for you longer than I've ever waited for any other woman, and all that… fully knowing you can never be mine."
-Peter…-she inquired warily, breaking their intimate contact. –Have we kissed before?
-Um, about that-his sheepish, boyish look told her everything she needed to know.
-In front of the bar in Cambridge-they pronounced the sentence simultaneously.
He was waiting on her following words in dread.
Will she be angry about that as well?
-It's ok-she reassured him. I'm just glad I remembered-Olivia said simply, as her tongue darted to wet her lips as she placed them upon his; Peter eagerly, longingly accepted them yet again.
It was all coming back to both of them.
They couldn't forget the sensual compatibility and attunement of their bodies; the peculiar, impeccable sync of their rhythms during their bimonthly lovemaking.
Her nervous trembling fingers fumbled around his shirt as she clumsily removed the buttons and placed her cool palms on his chest.
A bomb started ticking in Peter's ribcage, its beats growing stronger and stronger, ever more present, as his entire upper body shook to her touch.
-Liv…Are you sure you wish to do this…here and now-he croaked, staring at her, bewildered.
Olivia didn't answer as she subsequently placed her head on his bare chest, nuzzling his stubble with her chin.
They didn't speak at all.
Peter was stiff and frozen, as a deer caught in the headlights.
His limbs disobeyed him and all he could do was watch as she placed him to lay on the side, even though they were both fully clothed.
Then Olivia positioned herself next to him.
They now lay on their sides, facing each other. Peter instinctively leaned closer to her, enjoying Olivia's proximity and she hastily scissored her legs through his so they were superclose and his member, even though encased, created friction against her thigh.
Loud moan escaped his lips before he could contain himself but he still wasn't reaching for Olivia's body, wasn't trying to remove her clothes, out of fear of fucking everything all up all over again.
She gyrated her hips in circles around his member, which created an incredible erotic explosion as he felt himself becoming stiffer and stiffer by the second, till the point of no return.
Peter's tongue ran along Olivia's lips as he teased them, wetted them, giving her just a bit of his taste and it was now her turn to groan lightly.
He nibbled on her lower lip, thus fulfilling the little caprice he had for months now-assault that full, plump sweetness with his teeth just like she often did to herself.
Olivia stroke his hair in adoration and then she reached behind, raking her nails lightly along his back, causing Peter spine-tingling shivers he didn't expect.
-Oh God-he croaked into her ear, causing the tiny blond hairs on the back of her neck to erect to full attention of his breath. –I…I am done for and we...we are fully clothed...we aren't even doing anything. You…How are you doing this to me?
Her bold fingers ventured even further south and he yelped in shock sensing her reaching down below his anus, stroking his perineum expertly. Peter instantly shot a load of precum into his pants.
What the hell-his sex-fogged brain wanted an explanation. What the actual hell. I didn't… react so intensely...Since I was a teenager and I…What…-all coherent thoughts seemed to have abandoned him then and there as he was now positively leaning into her hand, enjoying her ministrations, wishing that she would never stop.
-Say my name-he heard her silk yet steely voice, demanding instant reply.
As always, he obeyed. Peter could never say no to Olivia.
The maxim: gentleman in the street, tiger in the sheets doesn't seem to be my thing. I am more of a boy Friday in the street, boy Friday in the sheets kind of guy when it comes to her.
-Olivia-it came out as a veneration of ancient deity, the one whom he was giving himself to completely. –I…What are you doing?
-Testing the hypothesis. Do you want me to continue?-impish reply was heard.
-Yes, please-he begged in a boyish, pleading, whispering voice. –Don't…don't stop.
-Oh that's too bad. I had something else on my mind-she muttered into his ear and his cock twitched under his dark blue denim jeans.
Then everything happened as a whirl as Peter felt Olivia's hand pull out and move away from his ass cheeks.
She grabbed both of his wrists, and he didn't resist, didn't even protest, such was the hazy state he was in.
It was too late already to wriggle away when he heard the ominous "click" of the metallic handcuffs he saw her use on criminals countless times.
His both wrist were now tied to her bedside, hands over his head.
As his mind was still grasping this new situation, the soft belt of her black bathrobe covered his eyes completely.
And then, there was just dark, and nothing else.
He lay on the unforgiving, ironbacked bed and felt his other senses swell with purpose, trying to listen to her sweet voice, to smell the essence of everything that Olivia was.
-You are under arrest, Mr. Bishop. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say may and will be used against you-she nibbled on his earlobe drawing a little bit of blood to which he let out a shrill gasp.
-Do I get a lawyer?-he managed to murmur through his teeth. Yet, when his own voice came out, Peter almost didn't recognize it, numb with sheer lust.
She merely chuckled, torturing him already with the sound of her smile.
-Livvy-he was begging her now, in a puppy-like manner. –Let me see you? Let me just… Touch you.
He could hear the soft hiss of the fabric as her shirt presumably fell on the floor and then her pants followed.
Suddenly, the warmth of Olivia's body close to his was palpable, and the sound of her subtle breath was deafening.
The vanilla smell of her perfume, the cool air on his skin, even the sense of his own presence in the room; everything was more intense.
Everything but his sight.
-I don't think so, Peter-there was a metallic, stern note in what she was saying and he loved it, loved her when she was being bossy like that, loved Olivia ordering him around.
Because then he could…he could obey her, follow each and every one of her orders, atone for what he did.
–When you were Eugene, you never let me see you. You forbade me from touching your face, your hair, removing your clothes. You know what I think, Peter? I think that… It's time you get the taste of your own medicine. You may not touch yourself. You may not watch. You may not talk. Do you understand?- she asked, running a finger up his thigh.
He nodded slowly, suppressing a gasp at the contact.
She resumed the inspection of his body, over his chest and across his neck and then turned towards the bed.
Peter listened to her walk away, the tap of her feet muffled by the carpet. He heard Olivia's underwear slide down her legs next and the covers rustled as she reclined on them, shuffling closer to him.
Peter's pulse quickened in his ears as his body began to rebel against his bondage.
He wanted her, and she knew it. And she wouldn't allow it. Not yet.
I guess I was a bad boy. And this is my punishment.
Olivia positioned herself as close to the foot of the bed as possible, propping herself up with pillows beneath her shoulders so she could watch him struggle to watch her. His frustration was her pornography, her little vendetta. She was going to tease Peter until he could bear it no longer, and then some more.
She opened her legs wide, resting a foot in each corner of the bed. If Peter had been able to see, the explicitness would have taken his breath away.
He heard the unmistakable sound of skin moving over skin and her breath deepening as she began to explore her body in front of him. His body stiffened in response, his arousal obvious through his pants.
Olivia moaned as she ran her fingertip over and around her nipple, then moved her finger to her mouth and sucked it noisily before moving it back to her nipple, her other hand inching further and further down her body.
Peter recalled seeing her please herself, when he was in her apartment for the second time as an Inviso-man. But way back then, she wasn't aware of his presence.
It was different at this time. He wanted to see her so badly, now that that he was in here with her.
Olivia's moans grew louder, and his desperation grew with them.
And all the time, she watched him.
Her left hand pinched and squeezed her breasts as she finally allowed her right hand to slip down between her legs and seek out her wetness.
"Oh fuck…" she murmured, simultaneously grinning at the effect she was having on Peter.
Olivia lifted her hips and pushed a finger inside, bringing her other hand down to pleasure herself further.
Peter bucked against his restraints insanely, as he heard the intensity of her play increasing and she watched, smiling, offering it to him unseen.
-Olivia!-he almost screamed in agonizing plea, smelling her wet pussy in the air but completely blind, incapable of visualizing it.
She payed no attention at all to his outraged outcry, as she pleasured herself long and slowly, speeding up and stopping, writhing, moaning noisily, taunting Peter, sustained by his frantic sexual anguish which was her fuel.
His panting now matched hers precisely: he began breathing in time with her because that was the only connection Peter could forge.
His heart thumped in his chest as he heard Olivia inhale, the first convulsion of orgasm seizing her body.
Olivia was no longer watching him. Her eyes were closed and her head thrown back. She was going to come to spite him.
Still using two hands, fingers working hard within and out, she let the frenetic sensations overwhelm her, her legs wide and taut.
Her stilted moans coalesced into one single, long, accelerating groan, increasing in volume as Olivia moved from the calm plateau before the storm into the thundering impact of her climax.
The groan stopped for a fraction of a second as all the muscles in her body froze – and then exploded in pleasure. Her orgasm rocked her and then subsided into aftershocks.
She lay, devastated and satisfied.
She opened her eyes and looked at Peter. He was leaning forward, as close as his bindings would allow, his mouth open and a complex look of anger and lust on his face.
She caught her breath, glowing and flushed, and smiling; as she removed herself from the bed.
On shaky, unsteady legs, she walked round to him, and leant down to his ear.
Olivia then traced a glistening finger over his lips and whispered, -I'll be back later.-
He listened to her step across the carpet and the Peter heard the door close behind her.
Minutes passed as hours as Peter strained his ears longing to hear her return.
After some time, he couldn't be certain how much time had passed exactly, since for him it looked like an eternity, Olivia's bedroom door opened once again.
She straddled his hips and leaned towards his ears, nibbling on his earlobe and sticking her tongue into his ear canal.
Then her lips slid both to front and back sides of his neck as she moistened Peter's skin.
Next Olivia's touch came off as a shock to him since she put the ice cube in her mouth and ran it up and down his chest in various patterns, getting agonizingly close to his cock and balls but then somehow always pulling up to his belly button and nipples.
Before Peter could recover from such treatment that left him even hungrier for her, he felt both of her nipples being offered to his mouth.
The order: -Suck-came, and he greedily lapped at them for some seconds, recognizing the taste of a peanut butter.
What a woman-Peter thought, befuddled.
Just as he zealously worked her nipples into impossibly tight peaks with his skilful soft lips and tongue, Olivia pulled them away out of his reach and he protested in salve of swearwords, wanting them back.
Wanting her back.
Whenever he would lunge after her nipples to try and suck on them yet again, Olivia would pull away.
The tease game was driving him mad with desire.
-I beg you, Olivia. Let me just…Just touch you, see you. I can't go on much longer like this, deprived of all of my senses.
-No-was her firm answer as she shuffled around.
He felt her scent on his lips now, her engorged clit positioned readily at Peter's tongue and Olivia's teeth unzipping his jeans and freeing his caged cock.
-Lick-came the next command.
Peter was more than eager to obey.
His tongue traced the edge of her neatly trimmed soft blond bush. He licked her juice up and circled her back hole. Peter then kept going, flicking over her tiny pink nub, moaning into her wetness, hungry for the taste of her.
Olivia's hips were now lowering rhythmically up and down as she hastily fucked his tongue, pleasing herself.
Olivia simultaneously sucked and licked his engorged penis, massaging his balls with her expert little fingers.
The muscles around her pussy began to spasm and Peter knew she was about to experience yet another orgasm. She indeed did so instants later, spilling her juices all over his cock, almost squeezing his head off with her strong legs, as she peaked for the second time.
Peter now roared in sheer frustration.
-'Livia. Please. I need to...I need to be inside of you right now. You don't know how much I...
She had her double orgasmic fun. She can't leave me like this or...At least I hope she won't.
-You weren't a naughty boy today, so I might just concede your wish, Bishop. I may not be so lenient next time.
Then Olivia expertly shifted, impaling her wetness on his member and riding him hard.
Sweetheart. You may think you are fully in control during the cowgirl position, but that is not entirely true-a cocky grin crossed the threshold of his lips but Peter said nothing.
Her pussy clamped down hard around Peter's invading cock, as an explosion of light went off in Olivia's head and pelvis and her body shook upon him. Her breasts now swayed against his chest, her thighs convulsed against his hips, her hands tightened claw-like on his shoulders. And she meowed in ecstasy.
"Peeeeteerrrrr," she moaned, unable to contain herself.
He marvelled at the lushness and fullness of her body, her soft yielding form going rigid on top of him as her climax was nearing, threatening to tear through her.
Time to make my moves I guess.
Peter flexed his cock inside Olivia, which made her howl some more, and then with a grin, he gripped her wide hips and began to raise his own upward once again, driving into her spasming pussy with an unimaginable speed. Olivia screamed and shook like a ragdoll atop him, but her hips quickly found the rhythm and responded in kind, fucking back to him as he fucked into her.
She felt full. Pleasantly full. Perfectly full, for the first time in perhaps ever. Sex with John or "Eugene" for that matter, had never been like this, had never been driven by the same insatiable need.
Peter's cock fit her so divinely, as if he was made for her. Not too big, certainly not small, with just a slight curve that made his cockhead drag along her G-spot as it drove into her. She wasn't sure she would ever stop coming. She wasn't sure she wanted it to stop.
Olivia's long hair fell across Peter's face. He felt her sweat drip onto his own moistened brow. He grinned up at her, knowing that she, for sure, had the glassy look of lust in her eyes. He was saddened that he hadn't been able to see it.
More than anything, Olivia deserved to be happy, deserved to enjoy the physical pleasure she had been denied for so long. The pleasure that would help her bond with real him, help her forget.
He was just proud to be the one privileged to deliver it. Peter wanted to make Olivia come and come and come again, to enjoy this too much to ever give it up.
Because he knew he could never give her up.
But such mushy thoughts were for later. Now he needed to give her the fucking of a lifetime. Peter just hoped he could hold on long enough. The lack of blowjob done nothing to blunt his need for release- Peter knew he couldn't last too much longer. He moved inside Olivia, bare flesh against bare flesh, driving his steely cock into her depths, realizing a dream that he had no business dreaming.
She merely removed his blindfold when he was about to explode and their eyes joined, their feverish and sweaty bodies falling into sync as Peter pumped her full of his cum, howling in ecstasy.
Olivia promptly shut his cries with her mouth on his, even though he was still spilling himself inside of her and it additionally contributed to the overall sensation.
-Well, I guess that hypothesis is confirmed. You are as good in bed as Eugene, maybe even better-she chuckled. -Much more docile and well-mannered overall, I think.
Peter was speechless as Olivia merely stated:
-Ready for another round?
THE END