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Peter stared at Rose in the silence after she asked him to fight for her. After she reminded him of what they went through, and hinted at what they would continue to go through.
The tough times ahead and how much they would need to fight.
The silence stretched, taffy thin. It wasn't really silent though, he could hear the gentle lap of the waves on the boat's hull, the cry of the seagulls circling above them, the hitch in Rose's breath as they kept their eyes locked.
Rose.
He leaned forward to kiss her before his mind had even registered it. Their lips brushed, soft, so soft, it could barely be called a kiss really, but still Peter's heart clenched.
He pulled back, hovering mere centimeters from her face. His thoughts were moving too fast, not fast enough.
Rose's eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of emotions that Peter didn't have the mental capacity to untangle. Then her eyes flicked down to his lips.
He didn't know who moved first, him or her. All he knew now was that he was kissing her properly.
Her lips were slightly chapped, and Peter was sure his were a thousand times worse, but it didn't matter, because it was Rose, Rose who was parting them slightly to allow him entrance, Rose who was wrapping her arms around his neck, despite the slightly weird angle, Rose who made the tiniest, neediest sound when his tongue touched hers.
Heat raced through his body, and he stood up suddenly, eliciting a small gasp of surprise from Rose and a twinge of pain from the stitches in his side.
Rose looked up at him, eyes wide pupils dilated, then she smirked.
"Ok there Agent Sutherland?"
Peter could only nod as he stretched out a hand for her to take. She grasped it gently and he felt the slight tremour before she tightened her hold. Peter wanted to ask if she was ok, but the words refused to come, because they weren't ok.
"You ok?" He still had to ask, his voice raspy and cracked like he had been screaming, which comes to think of it, he had been in his fight with the assassin.
He remembered, in a flash, the feeling of the assassin going lifeless under his arm. He shook the thought out of his head. He didn't want to think about that now. Not when Rose had her hand in his.
Rose, who was looking at him with clear eyes, with a hint of knowing, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking about. She tugged him toward the entrance of the below deck.
"To answer your question. No, I'm not ok."
Peter froze.
She pulled his hand again.
"I'm not ok, but I'm exactly where I want to be." She smiled up at him, beamed really, and Peter felt that knot that had been in his chest since he answered her call that night, since the Metro bombing, since his father was arrested, if he was being honest, loosen ever so slightly.
She moved aside for him to go down, and he followed the unspoken command , almost unconsciously. When his feet touched the ground he looked up as Rose climbed down, feet first, which wasn't the safest way if he was being honest. He didn't get to see her frankly amazing ass, but he did get to admire the slender muscles in her jean clad legs, the dip of her waist, the curve of her neck, and as it came into view, her face.
That face. The face that nearly stopped him dead in his tracks when he first laid eyes on it, only a stern mental reprimand preventing his jaw from dropping.
She was beautiful. And she was looking at him like he was the only thing she wanted in the world. And that took his breath away.
To be wanted by a woman as brave and as smart and as stunning as Rose, might just be the highlight of his life, bar none.
Sorry Quantico.
She reached for him, and he allowed himself to be tugged to her body, willing to support all her weight, everything that she came with, though he was battered and bruised. He could be strong for her. He would be.
His thoughts dissolved into static as their bodies melded together. She was soft under his, and just that, the press of body against body was enough to make him get hard. He would have been embarrassed if he had more than two brain cells to rub together.
She brought her lips to his again, and all chasteness was out the window. The kisses were deep, almost desperate, as Rose clung to him as if she could make them one.
She pushed him blindly toward the bed and he allowed it. He pressed his tongue, a little insistent, a little hungry against the seam of her lips and when she allowed him in, it made something fierce and wanting and needy rise up in him. Peter took control, turning her body where he wanted it to go.
The space was small and they bump against more than one obstacle, but he could care less.
Finally the bed was within reach, it felt like it took forever. He nudged her backward, fully intending to push her on to the mattress, but before he could, Rose did a little hip check move, which was actually pretty impressive, and next thing he knew he was flat on his back.
The pain was instant, sharp and bright through his side and Peter tried to hold back a groan and didn't succeed.
The good news, his embarrassing teenage boner was definitely gone.
"I am so sorry." Rose said, looking equal parts horrified and embarrassed.
Peter tried to tell her that it was fine, but his breath felt kind of funny and all he could do was pant. He glanced at her and he couldn't help it, his pants morphed into chuckles and he was laughing, then Rose was laughing and that made the pain disappear almost magically.
Huh, Rose's laugh had healing properties. She could make a mint off of that.
"Ah, yeah I'm good." And Rose's giggles tapered off, and she smiled down at him warmly and stitches be damned, he had to lean up and capture her lips in his.
Rose allowed herself to be pushed on to her back and Peter hovered over her, aware of their difference in size, and his not optimal physical condition. He settled himself off a bit to the side and proceeded to lose himself in her.
He couldn't be sure how long they kissed for, but when he came up for air at some point, he realised that his thigh was between Rose's leg, and her hips were working in tiny aborted movements, as she chased her pleasure. At each small gyration a soft whimpery moan escaped her lips.
His cock throbbed where it was pushed up against her hip, and he realised, with a startling clarity that he needed to be in her in the worst way.
"I need to be inside you Rose, please."
He didn't know why he was begging, but it seemed appropriate, he needed to convey the urgency of it all.
"Oh God yes, Peter, fuck me," Rose's voice was pleading and Peter felt a little better knowing that he wasn't the only desperate one.
Rose scrambled to unzip his hoodie, and it was like that gave them permission to tear each other's clothes off as quickly as possible.
Peter wished he could slow down, wished he could savour stripping Rose's clothes off, appreciating every part of his body as it became available to him, but the need was too great, too pressing. It seems like he blinked and they were both naked. He reached for his jeans, which were thrown uncaringly in a corner of the bed and fished out his wallet. In one of the compartments was the singular condom he kept there out of force of habit and he was not ashamed to say he sighed in relief.
He looked down at Rose who returned his look with a raised eyebrow.
"Bet you were a boy scout huh?" She said, voice husky, and Peter felt his own lips tug in a smile as he said.
"Be prepared."
Rose rolled her eyes, but the effect was spoiled by the way her eyes darkened as they traced his body. They stopped on his cock, and she licked her lips. He knew she wasn't doing it to be sexy, it was just a natural reaction, and that made it even sexier.
"God Peter, you're gonna tear me in half." He frowned and glanced down at his cock, which was an angry red, and hard enough to break diamond, and blushed.
"I-I'll go slow, I don't want to hurt you."
"You can never hurt me." She said, and her certainty and belief in him took his breath away. He dipped his head to kiss her again, softly, and she gave a gentle sigh and arched up towards him.
The oscillation of mood from tender to heated and back again, left him feeling slightly off balance, but he liked it. He liked that they could laugh one minute, then moan the next. It felt right.
It felt like them.
He slid a hand down her body, just touching, marveling really, at the smooth soft skin under his palm. The pleasure of his partner was tantamount to him, so he tried to catalogue her reactions, her back arched more when he teased at a nipple, she sighed softly when he stroked at her collar bones and she giggled when he ran a hand over her ribs. Every soft exhaled breath, every quiet moan, even her tiny snort as he dipped a finger into her belly button was drunk like it was communion, and Rose was the only thing that could save him.
The only thing that could give him absolution.
Finally, it seemed Rose had had enough of the gentle caresses.
"Peter, Peter, please touch me."
He smirked at her and she huffed quickly before he could reply, "And if you say 'I am touching you' I'll kick your ass."
He wanted to tease her, draw it out even for a few seconds more, but he was weak, so weak for her.
He slid his hand down, past her waist, skimming the swell of her hip, till he settled between her thighs, he stoked a finger up the sensitive skin of her inner thighs and Rose shuddered with her entire body.
"Please Peter, plea-" he brought two fingers to the lips of her vagina and the wetness he felt there made his cock throb in sympathy.
"Jesus." He muttered. He trailed his fingers up and down slowly, also stunned at how wet she was. She arched against the touch, no doubt trying to encourage him to faster, deeper, anything.
Peter leaned back a bit, to get a slightly better view. Though the light was shit, he could see that the lips of her labia were slightly swollen and glistened with the wetness he felt on his fingers. He thought about tasting her and a little bit of saliva flooded his mouth.
"I want to eat you out." He said, and fuck his voice sounded even more wrecked.
Rose whined and gasped. "Next time Peter, next time, I need you inside of me."
Next time. A promise then, that this was not a singular occurrence, not just some stress relief. He would get to do this again.
In that case-
He slid, one finger at first into her, and Rose gave a broken sob.
"Another, Peter another."
He listened, because of course he did, and pulled out, then went back in, this time with two, and Rose keened high and sweet, and clenched herself around the intrusion, and Peter realised, with more than a little worry that he might come before he got anywhere in her.
And that was something that hadn't happened to him since he was a teenager, confused and eager and desperate to nut. But she was furnace hot, and so soft and so fucking wet, that even as he worked his fingers in and out slowly, making sure she was stretched, making sure that he wouldn't hurt her, as she moaned and writhed and pleaded under him, he prayed to a God that he wasn't sure he believed in, that he wouldn't come as soon as he slipped inside her.
"I'm ready, Peter, I'm close and I don't want to come without your cock in me." Her words were demanding, with a slight hint of brattiness, and Peter upped the prayer level, because it was definitely going to be needed.
He grabbed the condom, ripped it open and began to roll it slowly, down his dick. His poor neglected dick that he had not touched for this entire time. It throbbed angrily and Peter didn't think he had ever rolled a condom on more slowly in his life.
Rose propped herself up on her elbows, and watched his movements with a marked interest. She reached out a hand when he was about half way done, and wrapped a sure hand around his cock. She stroked down, almost absent mindedly and Peter's shoulders curled in on themselves, with effort, as he held back from thrusting into her warm palm.
She held his cock with a casual propriety, while Peter's breath wheezed through his mouth.
"This," she said giving him a firm squeeze that made him buck,
"Is mine."
Oh, he was going to come. He got a firm hand on the base of his cock and squeezed, while trying to name all the players on the 1992 NBA all star team.
After what felt like years he got himself under enough control to roll on the rest of the condom. When he finally opened his eyes, huh, when did he even close them, Rose was looking at him, the glint of mischief clear on her eyes.
"Don't you dare say a word." He warned, and Rose mimed zipping her lips shut. He growled at her playfully as he lunged in for another kiss and she squealed as he kissed her all over her face.
When they finally settled down he was on top of her, forearms on either side of her head, and their faces inches apart. He gave a seeking thrust forward and the head of his cock bumped against her pussy, and she gasped, and just like that the playful atmosphere evaporated.
The dichotomy of it struck him again, and he had the fleeting thought that, if given the chance, he would willingly spend the rest of his life laughing with Rose Larkin.
Rose gripped his shoulders and rolled her hips. This time she didn't need any words, the command was clear in her movements.
He reached a hand between them and held his cock steady as he pushed into her.
Any control that he might have regained fled instantly as he pressed into her. Though he had tried his best to stretch her, she was still so tight, as he pushed his head past the initial wet, hot resistance. He wanted to pause, both to ensure she was comfortable and to try to get himself under control at least a little, but she wrapped her legs around his waist and used her heels, digging into the back of his thighs to let him know that stopping was not on the agenda.
So he kept moving forward, the feeling of her unfurling, to allow him in, overwhelming, even through the condom. Finally with one more small push he was fully inside her.
"Fuuuuuuuuuck."
Being inside her was like slipping into a warm bath at the end of the day. The feeling was almost transcendent. Her pussy gripped at his cock, and Peter wasn't sure how long this was going to last.
That was a lie, the answer was not long at all.
"Rose, sweetheart, you feel so good. God, you're amazing, I'm not gonna last long at all."
She moaned and swiveled her hips under him and Peter choked. But he didn't think that Rose would tease him if he came in two point five seconds, well at least not too badly, and the urge to move was overriding all his conscious thought, so Peter pulled out, until just the head of his cock remained in her, then slid back in with a firm thrust.
Rose made a loud sound, part gasp, part moan and Peter snapped. He began thrusting into her with deep even thrusts, resisting the urge to pound into her just chasing his pleasure.
Rose, Peter discovered, was a talker. He could say he was surprised but that would be a lie. Between her moans she rattled off the dirtiest, most filthy shit Peter had ever heard. Granted his past partners were solidly vanilla, so it didn't take much to cross that benchmark.
She clawed at his back her blunt nails leaving a spark of white hot pain behind them. Peter wondered if they would leave a mark.
He hoped they would leave a mark.
Those were scars that he would gladly bear.
"Fuck, how is it that you have the most perfect dick?" Rose asked, sounding almost offended. Peter huffed a laugh and slammed back into her, ripping a yell from her lips.
"Yes, God yes, just like fucking that." Her pussy clenched around him and he bit out a curse of his own.
Rose dragged him down for a monstrosity of a kiss, basically them just panting into each other's open mouth. It was the sexiest thing that ever happened to him.
"Peter, Peter." Hearing Rose chant his name in that broken husky voice would drive him to an early grave. He was sure of it.
He worked into her a little faster, a little harder.
"God," he groaned. "Rose you feel amazing, you feel perfect, made for me."
Rose mewled, and nodded her head frantically, hair whipping with the movement.
"Next time, next time Peter, I want you to come in me."
"Oh fuck." Peter had never done that before. Never saw the appeal, but the idea, the image of fucking Rose raw, of feeling the warmth of her pussy without any barrier, of coming in her until she was sloppy with it, activated a direct switch to Peter's cock.
He pushed up to his knees, ignoring the pull of the stitches, and slid his hands around Rose's hips, using the leverage, he hauled her hips up off the bed, finding the perfect angle and thrust into her.
It was like heaven. Rose let out a long continuous moan, and slid her hand down her body, no doubt seeking that final stimulation that would push her over the edge.
"That's it Rose, that's it sweetheart, come for me." he said, voice gone gravel and grit as he pounded into her.
Rose found her clit and barely curled it two times with her index finger before she was shaking apart under him. He felt her pussy spasm and clench around him, and he struggled to maintain a decent rhythm as her fucked an orgasm out of her.
He looked on, hanging on by the finest of threads as her peak slowly crested, then as she shuddered to a finale. Her face was sweaty and her lips were bitten pink and Peter felt his balls begin to tighten, signaling the beginning of the end. Rose looked up at him, sated, but still with that glint of passion in her eyes.
Peter slowed to a crawl, hips barely shifting, as he contemplated pulling out, despite he cock's protest. Rose might be tipping into oversensitivity now and the last thing he wanted to do was cause her any discomfort.
"The next time," Peter loved hearing those three words. "I'm gonna suck your cock." She began to move her hips in a circle on him and Peter sucked in a gasp.
"Gonna suck it until you're right on the edge. Then, I'm gonna lay you flat on your back, and ride you till you come in me." Rose's hips were moving faster and Peter couldn't help but be swept away by the tide. He tightened his grip on her hips, knowing it might be a bit too hard, but Rose just gasped.
"Then I'll get you hard again and you'll fuck your come back into me."
And, Peter was coming. Harder than he ever had in his life. He thrusted once, twice, then his entire rhythm fell apart as the world turned to white.
When he came to, he was flat on his back and Rose was curled up against him, sighing contentedly. The condom was still on, and he knew he should take it off, but his entire body felt like jello. He dragged Rose closer to him and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head.
He glanced down at her, and saw that she had her eyes closed, and the look in her face was one of peace, something he had never seen on her since they met.
She opened her eyes to look at him.
"Hi." she said, sounding almost shy.
"Hey." He kissed the top of her hair again.
"That was amazing." she sounded almost giddy, and all Peter could manage is a grunt of agreement.
After some mental convincing he got off the bed and cleaned them both up. He settled back in, hauling her in as close as she could possibly go.
He allowed himself to be slowly drifted off to sleep by the gentle rocking of the boat, and the warmth by his side.
He tried, and failed, to not think of words like, forever and perfect and love, because that would be ridiculous, they'd only just met.
So for now he would take this, a couple of hours of good sleep with the most amazing woman he knew.
Suddenly his eyes flew open and he jerked up slightly, causing Rose to stir.
"Where the fuck did you learn to talk like that, Jesus, the mouth on you!" Rose looked at him with wide eyes.
"You like it huh?" she said with a tilt of her lips that looked suspiciously like a smirk.
Their laughter echoed up and out of the boat, with no one but the seagulls to hear them.