Chapter 12: The Stretch
Her scream of “YOU!” still seemed to hang in the air, a ghost in the cinnamon and sex-scented room. Peter released her hair, letting her slump forward, her forehead pressing against the cool glass of the mirror. His fingers slid out of her, a slow, wet withdrawal that made her gasp. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he turned her in his arms, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was less a reward and more a claim.
That kiss was a door swinging open into a different dimension of time.
For the next two hours, punctuated by short breaks where they’d lie tangled and breathless, Peter kissed her. He kissed her in every position imaginable. He kissed her while she was on her side, one of his heavy thighs thrown over hers. He kissed her while she sat astride him, riding him slowly, their mouths meeting in a lazy, drugged rhythm. He kissed her against the bedroom wall, one hand cradling the back of her head so it wouldn’t bang against the plaster, his body pinning hers as he moved in deep, measured strokes. Finn had never done that. He’d only ever done missionary and doggy style. Sometimes Rachel rode him, but it never lasted long, Finn often coming within minutes, leaving her breathless but unsatisfied, a smile plastered on her face for his benefit.
With Peter, it was completely different.
When he wasn’t kissing her, or moving inside her, he was using his mouth elsewhere. He would push her onto her back, spread her wide, and lick her with a dexterity far superior to Finn’s. He didn’t just apply pressure; he played her. He licked broad strokes that made her back arch, then focused with devastating precision, his tongue flicking and circling until she was sobbing. He sucked her clit between his lips, humming, and Rachel came several times just from that, her hands fisting in the starched sheets she’d ironed for his visit.
“Jesus, Peter—Ah! Ah! Right there, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, fuck!” she’d shriek, her voice raw.
He’d glance up, a wicked glint in his eye. “Finn just, what, taps it a few times and calls it a day?” he’d ask, before diving back in.
Then it was her turn. He’d guide her head down, his hand firm on the back of her neck. “Your turn,” was all he’d say, and she’d suck him again and again, until her jaw ached and her pussy, utterly spent, was still drenched in a mix of their fluids. At one point, he pulled out of her mouth with a low groan, pushed her onto her back, and stroked himself fast and hard. A hot stream of come landed across her cheek, her lips, spattering into her hair.
“Shit,” she whispered, stunned, her eyes wide.
He grinned, panting. “Marking my territory. Bet my brother never thought to do that.” He leaned down and licked a stripe through the mess on her cheek, making her shudder.
Late that evening, sticky and saturated, she slipped into the shower. The hot water was a baptism. She was just beginning to scrub the evidence from her skin when the curtain rattled back and he joined her, water sluicing down the hard planes of his chest. He kissed her again under the spray, his hands sliding over her soap-slick body, finding every ache and amplifying it into renewed desire.
“Ah! God, not again, I can’t—” she moaned, even as her legs wrapped around his waist.
“You can,” he murmured against her throat, lifting her, pinning her to the cold tile. “You will.”
She screamed and swore, a litany of “Oh fuck!” and “Yes, right there!” that echoed off the porcelain. He never seemed to tire, commenting between thrusts. “This what you wanted when you kept looking at me over dinner? Hmm? This what you imagined while Finn was talking about his spreadsheets?”
After, wrapped in towels, the energy shifted again. A predatory calm settled over him. “On the bed,” he said, his voice quiet. “On all fours.”
With a weariness that was also a kind of euphoric anticipation, Rachel obeyed for what felt like the umpteenth time. She got on all fours on the rumpled bed. He knelt behind her, his hands stroking the curve of her ass. Then she felt it—the heavy, familiar weight of his cock resting between her buttocks, a promise and a threat.
“Gonna take care of this now,” he said casually, as if discussing the weather.
Her stomach lurched. “No.Peter, no. Your cock is way too big for my ass. You’re going to kill me.”
He laughed, a low, rich sound. He leaned over her, his mouth close to her ear. “You’re the kind of girl who deserves to be fucked by a big cock like this. All the way. Everywhere.” He nipped her earlobe. “I’m sure Finn never has. Probably thinks it’s rude.”
Before she could protest again, he bent down, yanked open the drawer of the dresser next to the bed, and pulled out a half-used bottle of lube she hadn’t known was there. The cold, slick spray on her most forbidden place made her jump. She heard him slicking himself.
He positioned himself, the broad head nudging against a place that had never known anything but the most tentative, fleeting touch. He pushed.
The lubricant did its work, and to Rachel’s shock, the initial, burning resistance gave way. A low, pained groan escaped her. “Uhnnn…”
“There,” Peter soothed, his voice terrifyingly gentle. “See? Made for it.”
He continued to push, a slow, inexorable invasion that stretched her beyond any concept of fullness she’d ever known. He pressed down on the center of her back, and she collapsed onto her forearms, her face buried in the sheets, her ass remaining high in the air. In this helpless, submitted position, he sank deeper.“Ah! Ah!Fuck! Fuck!” she cried, the words muffled by cotton. It was a pain so acute it bordered on something else. A bright, white-hot wire of sensation that speared her core.
Then he began to move. Withdrawing slightly, then plunging back in.And something shifted. The sharp, tearing edge melted into a deep, radiating pressure that brushed against a nerve bundle hidden deep within. A full-body shudder wracked her.
“Oh,” she gasped. “Oh… oh god.”
“Yeah,” Peter grunted, his rhythm steadying. “That’s it. There’s my girl. Feel that? Finn ever make you feel anything like that?”
“N-no,” she whimpered, the confession torn from her. “Nuh-uh.”
“Didn’t think so.” His thrusts grew more purposeful, each one dragging a moan from her lungs.“Uh! Uh!Peter! Yes!”
It wasn’t long before he was fully seated, his hips flush against her, his entire length buried inside her ass. She was moaning, making little choked cries, swearing with each breathtaking movement. “Holy shit… holy fucking shit…”
Then Peter began to thrust in earnest, a hard, driving pace that stole the air from the room. Each impact jolted her forward, her cries syncing with his movements. “Uh!Uh! Fuck!”
He leaned over her, bracing one hand by her head, his voice a hot, dark whisper in her ear. “This is mine now, too. Say it.”
She was beyond denial, splintered on a pleasure so profound it felt like annihilation. “Yours!” she screamed into the mattress. “It’s yours, it’s yours!”
He pistoned into her, his control fraying, his own breath becoming ragged. “Gonna… fill this tight little hole… mark it inside…”
A fist pounded on the other side of the wall.
They froze.
A moment of perfect, horrifying silence, broken only by their ragged breathing and the frantic drum of Rachel’s heart. Then Finn’s voice, sleep-thickened and annoyed, came through the plaster.“Hey! You guys okay in there? Sounded like a fight.”
Peter didn’t pull out. He looked down at Rachel, her eyes wide with panic in the dim light from the sconce. A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. He lowered his mouth to her ear again, his voice a barely audible thread of sound.
“Tell him,” he whispered.