For him, he'd had to wait until she was older and adjusted to not just her power but being a Petrelli.
For her. Well, he didn't really know what her reason was for delaying the inevitable.
He hadn't meant to intrude tonight. He had been assigned the task of escorting her to the fundraiser. Nathan was campaigning for someone up for election this year. Peter didn't know who and he really didn't care. He just knew he was going to be able to spend the night with Claire. It was no hardship on his part for sure.
He'd knocked and she hadn't responded. He opened the door to see if she was even in her room. It was possible she'd gone down the other set of stairs while he was coming up. He heard her humming softly from her dressing room area and without thinking made himself invisible. It was rare he was able to watch her undetected.
He was drawn to her as he always was. He'd thought the attraction would diminish after a while of seeing her all of the time. That wasn't the case. She grew more attractive to him every day. She was amazing and he hated the thought of someone else claiming her, which was why he'd been overjoyed to hear she was without a date for the night.
He watched, transfixed as she put the finishing touches on her hair. A soft haze of hairspray filled the air. It smelled sweet. Like her.
She wasn't dressed yet, wearing a short robe that she hadn't bothered to secure. He had a nice visual of the swell of her breasts, the flatness that was her abdomen. His view stopped just short of the juncture at her legs. Teasingly keeping all of her from being open to his perusal.
Next came the makeup. She didn't need much, she was beautiful without it. She was an American girl, though, and like so many wouldn't go out without her war paint on. He'd never really had the chance to watch a woman get ready like this, without their knowing he was watching.
She leaned in toward the mirror, puckering her lips at her reflection. He was pretty sure there was a reason for the move, but much to his gratitude it raised the hem of the already short robe precariously higher. High enough he knew she wore nothing but the robe. He placed his fist to his mouth to stifle the groan threatening to escape his lips.
He should leave. He wasn't sure what it said about him that he was rooted to the spot, watching his niece get ready. Coveting her. Picturing just what she'd look like without the robe. And getting turned on doing it. He must have been lost in thought longer than he realized because before he knew it she was done with her hair and makeup.
She turned then, regarding herself in the mirror. Briefly, it seemed like she was looking right at him. If he didn't know better he'd swear she knew he was there despite his being quiet. She skimmed her hip and stomach with the back of her hand. He thought she was smoothing out the robe. That thought was quickly dismissed when she slid her hand up, higher, cupping one of the breasts he was just admiring the swell of moments ago.
Her movements caused the robe to fall open almost completely now, leaving little to the imagination. And he found that his imagination while not wrong did not do her complete justice. Her breasts weren't overly large, but from where he stood they looked perfect. Supple, round, perky, especially the peaks now standing at attention due to her ministrations.
Her eyes fell closed as her other hand slid lower, between her legs. She parted her legs ever so slightly, a tease of a view if he ever saw one. He wasn't sure where to watch, her hand stimulating her breast or her finger coming increasingly close to sliding inside of her.
Her fingertip dipped between her legs, disappearing just a little inside of her. She slid it up then, trailing a path to her breast where she circled a nipple with it. He was growing hard, harder than hard. It was better than any porno flick he'd ever seen.
And then just like that, she stopped. He wanted to scream a protest, fall to his knees and beg her to continue. Anything to continue the show he'd just been witness to.
She fixed the robe a little but still hadn't bothered to secure the belt at her waist. He saw her hardened nipples through the silky fabric. Who had bought it for her anyway? Nathan? His mother? Had she bought it for herself? He found himself jealous, wondering who she had in mind if she had bought it for herself.
He turned, caught in her trap and watched as she walked into her bedroom and sat on the bed. She made an exaggerated production of putting on a pair of stockings. Not pantyhose, just stockings. He saw the garter belt when she stood, fastening the tops of the stockings to the garter. She took a moment to run a fingertip over her slit once the stockings were adjusted.
Too late, he realized she knew he was there. He should have tapped into her thoughts earlier. The show had been for his benefit. He couldn't help the wide smile coming to his lips at that knowledge.
At the moment all she wore was the robe and the garter with stockings. She leaned down, she had to know that she was flashing him everything there was to see. Her beautiful and very firm ass, something he had been fond of watching more than she probably realized, her slit already moist from her own touch.
As if she was the one with the ability to read minds, she shook her ass a little and bent over further. He groaned softly when she proceeded to crawl onto the bed, kneeling just at the edge of it.
I know you're there and I know you're enjoying the show as much as I am. Come see how wet I am.
How could he resist such an invitation? Abilities or not, he was a man. And resisting her was even more impossible now than it had been when they first met. He walked up to her, working his belt and the fastenings on his trousers as he went.
"Are you sure," he whispered.
"God, yes, I've been waiting for you to come to me forever, Peter."
"It seems like it." She shook her ass again, as if to remind him of what she was offering.
Like he'd forget.
He stepped up behind her, his still invisible hand cupping her ass. She let out a soft groan and threw her head back, pressing back against him.
"We're running late," he whispered, a valiant attempt at taking the high road.
"We're the last ones to leave, no one's going to come looking for us. And wouldn't it be a great way to spend the party, knowing what we've done?"
"Peter, don't you want me?"
"You know I do. I've wanted you since I first saw you. Not even the real you."
"Oh God, Claire, you're my…"
"Don't even say it. You are not my uncle."
He was hard, throbbingly hard.
"I love you and you love me. How can that be wrong?"
"Try it. If it feels bad we'll stop."
"Feels bad? Claire…" She was all kinds of crazy if she thought this was going to feel bad. "At least lay on your back for me."
"You don't like it from behind? I thought every guy liked it this way?"
"Our first time I want to look at you."
"Without me being able to look at you?"
"Turn over," he said. As she did, he let himself be visible again. "Someone comes in, you're going to look like you're doing something illicit by yourself because I'll go invisible again. I don't think my mother could handle this."
He shed the rest of his clothes, feeling himself get more aroused as she watched him. She obviously liked what she saw and wasn't afraid to let him know that.
"She knows, Peter. She's not dumb or blind. We're the only ones bothering trying to fool ourselves."
He crawled onto the bed beside her and kissed her. If he was going to do this, rushed as it may have to be since they had some place to be - he was going to do it right.
His hands worked quickly along her body, not taking the time to fully learn what made her hum. He didn't have the time for that. Later there'd be plenty. Right now, he just wanted to know she was ready for him. Funny, now that he was here, about to do what he'd dreamt of doing for a while now the guilt, the reasons not to just didn't seem important. She was right, they weren't uncle and niece. He didn't watch her grow up.
He trailed his mouth, following the path of his hands, tasting her sweetness with his lips. He dipped between her legs and thought he'd found the Garden of Eden itself. In this he was thorough, bringing her off with his tongue and fingers.
After a few minutes he felt her tap his head. She held up a square foil packet and smiled when he looked up at her.
"Where'd you get that?"
"I have a couple of them. Just in case."
"Just in case, huh," he said, tearing open the packet and rolling the condom over his erection. He slid on top of her, draping her body with his. She was indestructible but like this it was hard to imagine that. She was all softness and curves to his hardness. He slid inside of her, pausing when he felt the barrier there.
"I assumed you'd done this before."
"It doesn't matter if I have, I heal."
"Yes," she whispered and his throat constricted slightly.
"So, have you?"
She shook her head.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"It's okay. I knew that going into this."
He was as gentle as he could be, mouth finding hers so he could kiss her as she cried out. He wondered if every time would be like this. Sadly - or not - he was anxious to find out.
He was more than diligent in his attention to her, showering breasts and neck and clit as much attention as he could. She milked him, squeezing like a vise. When she finally came she clutched his forearms with her hands, eyes wide and he got to watch as she succumbed to the passion, the need to let go.
Perhaps it was the expectation, the anticipation. Years now of being near her, wanting her but subjecting himself to thoughts that he couldn't have her. Whatever it was, he found his release too soon. He liked to think it was just her.
They took a little time to cuddle and explore, but they were more than just a little pressed for time. Claire took the time to adjust his bowtie for him. He noticed she didn't put anything on underneath her gown beyond the garter belt and stockings.
"Are you trying to make me crazy?"
"I'm going to have sit there at that fundraiser knowing you've got nothing on underneath."
She leaned in and kissed him, stuffing one of the square foil packets into his inner suit coat pocket.
"Then turn invisible and come find me. I'm sure there will be some place we can get away for a few minutes."
"You deserve better than that."
"I'm asking you to do it. And besides, it'd be fun."
"Fun she says."
"Sure. You know everyone there's going to be all stuffy." She flicked his jacket's lapel with her thumbnail. "So, it'll just be up to us to be sure we have fun."
"Nathan has no idea how much of a handful you are."
She smiled widely. "I have no intention of being a handful for Nathan. Not like this anyway." She brought his hand to her breast. "Only you get the pleasure."
"And it is a pleasure."
"That we can both agree on." She turned then, his hand fell to his side when she let go of it. "I guess we should go, don't want to be too late. Nathan might wonder."
She grabbed her purse from the top of her dresser.
"You think my mother knows?"
"Mothers always know. Haven't you learned that yet? How do I look?"
He watched her leave the room, still not entirely ready to believe they'd just done it. He had sex with Claire. He was taking Claire out. Was it a date? He knew the hotel the fundraiser was being held in and tried to picture where they could go to be alone as he followed her out the door.
It would be fun to take her right in front of someone. She had been fairly quiet in bed, but the noises she did make were pretty obvious. Sex. Passion. Arousal.
And she did get aroused. Once he'd been inside of her she'd responded better than he'd imagined. She'd been slick yet so tight around him. He'd never been with a virgin before. The idea that they'd have to go through that again was disturbing, but if she was willing it must not have been too bad.
He watched her go down the stairs. Anyone watching would see a college-aged woman, an air of innocence underneath her beauty. Yet she was elegant, having slipped right into the Petrelli lifestyle without batting an eye. He liked knowing what she was really like. He enjoyed knowing that she'd shake hands and smile tonight having just been satisfied by him.
He put the divider up in the limo once they were on their way to the event and drew her to him. He kissed her then, slow, thorough, deep, lips parting to find her tongue with his. He didn't take it further, as tempting as it was to do that. He just wanted this, wanted her to know it hadn't just been sex for him.
"What was that for," she whispered, sounding rather breathless when she drew away.
"I like knowing you're going to go in there with me on your brain, my kiss on your lips."
She smiled widely. "I like knowing that, too."
"And I like the fact that I'll be the only one who knows what you're actually wearing tonight."
She blushed. He tipped her face up so he could look her in the eyes. "I like knowing that while other men in the room will be looking at you, you're mine."
Her eyes widened. Was it possible she didn't know? It wouldn't be easy, Nathan would probably kill him if he found out. There was no way he was walking away from her now.
"You think what just happened was a fluke? That I would have done what we did if it didn't mean something? Everything?"
"Well, no, but…"
"I love you, Claire."
"I love you, too, but you've known that for a while."
"Yeah, I have. I wasn't ready I guess."
"And you are now?"
"What can I say? You caught me."
She smiled then and leaned into kiss him. "I think it was you who caught me. Sneaking into my room. Naughty man."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Mm, no, in fact," she said, kissing him again, lingering on his lower lip. "It'd be fun if you did it again."
"The element of surprise would be gone."
"I'm sure we could come up with some way to keep that there."
"You are going to be a handful, aren't you?"
"I'll do my best," she said, settling against him. He draped his arm around her, liking the feel of her nestled against his arm. Publicly they couldn't do this, but for now he could enjoy it.
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com