Taken

Warnings: Vol. 3 Spoilers. This is future bad Peter and good Claire. There is rape in the beginning.

He always knew where to find her. He wasn’t even using Molly Walker’s ability, Peter didn’t need to since this part of the past hadn’t changed; where Claire still came to New York to save Nathan but instead of leaving after giving him her blood, she stayed. She stayed for Nathan but mostly, she stayed because of him, for her beloved Uncle Peter.

She had spent a year living in sunny Costa Verde, California pretending to be someone that she wasn’t, missing him. Then she got caught by the Company, lost her dad and was reunited with him briefly only to lose him again. And when news of Nathan’s attempted assassination broke, she, Sandra and Lyle came out of hiding.

And now here she was, lying peacefully in bed. Peter grinned, remembering the flurry of her cheerleading skirt, her bright smile, wavy hair and crimson lips. The mark of blood was on her skin and even covered in it, she still looked beautiful. He came over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and lightly brushing his hand through her hair.

He grinned wider when he realized that even in the dark, he could see through her thin sleep shirt His hand wandered for a moment from her hair down beneath her shirt to her breasts, fondling her. Claire stirred, groggily opening her eyes, catching him. “Peter?” she questioned pulling away from him. “What are you doing?”

He stared hard at her, studying her petite figure. Claire pulled up the blanket around her, suddenly feeling conscious that she was in her sleep wear and Peter was sitting not too far away from her. “Peter,” she cried again, “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t mean to disturb you Claire,” he apologized, “I just wanted to see you.”

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and then to him. “That’s very sweet Peter but it’s so late,” she reasoned, “unless something is wrong. Is Nathan okay?”

“Nathan’s fine,” he mused, “He’s recovering nicely, thanks to your blood.”

“That’s good,” she said, smiling at him. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait Claire,” he pleaded as she started to lie down again. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

She reluctantly sat up again, waiting for him to continue. “What is it?” she asked.

Peter grinned, sitting closer to her and reaching underneath the sheets once again to her thighs and bottom. Once Claire felt his hand down there, she slapped him hard across the face. “What the hell do you think that you’re doing?!” she retorted, “I realize that you don’t have all your memory back Peter but I am still your niece and that was totally inappropriate!”

“Sorry,” he apologized, smiling again, “It’s just…you’re very beautiful Claire.”

“Thanks,” she said flatly, “but that’s no reason to…”

“I almost didn’t remember what you looked like with blonde hair,” he continued.

Claire frowned, looking curiously at him. “What do you mean?”

He ran a finger along her jaw and down her neck to the small of her back. “Your hair has always been anything but blonde or black. Dark brown with a hint of red but never blonde,” he commented, leaning down to kiss her.

“What are you talking about?” she cried, “My hair’s never been…”

He kissed her suddenly, wrapping his hands around her waist, pulling her to him. Claire frowned, confused about his behavior coupled together with the things he was saying about her hair color…it almost sounded like he was talking about a different her. He was different too. She knew that he was still recovering his memory but this new Peter…he was different; she couldn’t pinpoint how, but it scared her.

She pulled away from him, moving to turn on the light on the night stand but he stopped her. She backed down, staring at him. “Peter, that was…”

“Amazing, wasn’t it?” he teased, smirking and brushing her fingers through her hair. She flinched at his touch. “Claire, what’s wrong?”

She shrugged. “Peter, this isn’t right…you and I, we’re close but whatever’s going on with you, how you think that you feel about me…it needs to end.”

“I can’t stop how I feel about you Claire,” he whispered, kissing her cheek. “I can’t help it.”

“Peter, this has got to stop,” Claire declared, “You’re not yourself!”

“Stop me then,” he challenged, holding her down using telekinesis.

She still struggled to free herself but it was useless. “Peter…Stop!” she cried again, “Let me go!”

He slipped off her thin shirt and bottom but left on her panties, dipping his finger beneath the fabric, stroking her. Claire struggled again but in the process, caused him to go deeper inside of her. Claire whimpered, feeling uneasy but even more so, to her surprise and dismay, aroused. This was Peter after all and he was not supposed to make her feel aroused or anything sexual for that matter. But the more he touched her, the more Claire wanted him inside of her. How twisted was that?

He stopped stroking her and cupped both of her breasts with his hands, kissing them. “There’s no need to struggle Claire,” he whispered.

“No Peter….stop…” she cried, moaning softly at the feel of his lips on her nipples.

“Things are just getting good,” he teased.

Claire shook her head, struggling again to break free of his telekinetic grasp but he was too strong. He had her hands and arms pinned to the bed; she was nude now as he removed the last piece of clothing covering her. Claire suddenly felt so exposed but now his tongue was doing amazing things to her breasts and she couldn’t help but moan in ecstasy.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothed, taking off his clothes and coming into her. Claire let out a short cry as he started slow ministrations. “Do you still want me to stop?”

She didn’t say and Peter’s ministrations went from slow to quick and fast, eliciting more moans from Claire. “Not too loud, baby,” he purred. “Don’t want to wake Nathan.”

Nathan!

Claire backed her head away, staring at him as he cocked his head, studying her.

“What?” he retorted.

“I just remembered why this can’t go any further,” she realized.

“And why is that?”

“Because Nathan’s sleeping down the hall,” she retorted, “This needs to stop, Peter,”

“You don’t want me to stop,” he teased her, ignoring her pleas, continuing his ministrations, faster and deeper this time.

“Peter, this needs to stop…Oh God!” she cried, reaching for the top of the bed, holding onto the spokes, closing her eyes tightly as she came hard. “Fuck!”

Peter let go of his grip on her and she wrapped her arms around his back, holding onto him. When she finally calmed down, she looked at him; really looked at him and that’s when she noticed it: a long scar across his face and his hair was slicked back.

“You’re not…” she started, “Who are you?”

“It’s me Claire,” he said, “Peter.”

“No, you’re not,” she breathed, “You’re different.”

“I’m still the same,” he noted, stroking her cheek.

Claire shook her head. “You’re not,” she retorted, “You’re…”

He gripped her neck suddenly, glaring icily at her. “I’m what Claire? Different? Darker? Not quite myself?” he mused, kissing her cheek. “It didn’t stop you from letting me fuck you.”

“That was rape,” she said resolutely, “I should have never… I mean, I knew that there was something different about you but I didn’t consider…”

“I’m still Peter, Claire,” he whispered to her, kissing her, “I’m still your Peter.”

“You’re not,” she cried, “You’re different and that was…shouldn’t have happened.”

He grinned. “Then how come you want me to do it to you again?” he questioned, “You forget Claire, I can read your thoughts. Courtesy of Matt Parkman.”

She shook her head profusely. “No,” she declared, “You’re wrong. That’s not what I want.”

It was a lie. As wrong as it was, Claire wanted him to fuck her again. Even with Nathan sleeping down the hall and the fact that this wasn’t her Peter, didn’t matter all that much. She just wanted him.

Peter smiled suddenly, running a finger along her neck. “You do want me again Claire,” he whispered, “You want to feel that way again.”

She didn’t want to admit it aloud, not to him anyway, but yes, she did. Claire wanted to give into her darkest desire, feelings she had been holding back since she found out that Peter was her uncle. Even before then, remembering her little crush on him after homecoming all because he saved her. She wasn’t ignoring those feelings anymore.

“What’s it going to be Claire?” he questioned, interrupting her thoughts.

Claire sighed, timidly reaching down between them and stroking him as he done to her before. Peter closed his eyes, smiling and moaning as she touched him.

“That’s perfect baby,” he soothed, “Perfect.”

She stopped touching him and lay back on the bed. “Peter…please.”

“So polite Claire,” he chuckled, “You are nothing like my Claire but I like it. You’re innocent and so unaware of what you’re capable of.”

“Stop talking about her,” she spat, “I’m not her, Peter. It’s silly but you’re making me jealous of me and I want you and stop comparing me to her – err me.”

He leaned down over her, grasping her breasts in his hand. “All right, I’ll stop comparing you.” he promised.

With that said he started pumping her at a slow pace and then gradually transitioned to a faster one. Claire closed her eyes, relishing every moment of it, thinking that her Peter would never do anything like this to her. He was too good. Not only that, he would never allow himself to cross that line with her.

In that moment, Claire realized the allure of the dark side, of being evil. It was doing whatever you wanted, regardless of the consequences. Her evil counterpart probably did not have second thoughts when it came to giving Peter what he wanted and now Claire getting what she wanted.

Peter squeezed her breast, leaning lower over her, thrusting harder and faster. His hard work paid off as Claire came hard once again and he cautiously came out of her, as she collapsed onto the bed and he lay beside her.

“What is she like?” she asked between panting.

He looked curiously at her. “I thought that you didn’t want to know,” he countered.

Claire shrugged, turning to look at him. She brought up her hands and she could see him flinch but he didn’t move as she let them fall on his face, tracing the long scar that she saw earlier. “Are the two of us so different from each other, Peter?” she continued, “Aside from our appearance, anyway,”

He chuckled. “Do you really want to know?”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but I want to know,”

Peter stood up from the bed suddenly, picking up his clothes as Claire sat up, studying him. “Peter, please don’t go,”

He froze, turning back to her. “She’s like me, Claire. Dark, cold, unfeeling, bitchy on occasion but she’s not you,” he whispered. “She hates everything and everyone, loves the thrill of torturing innocents and enjoys lots of violent sex,”

Claire stared blankly at him for a moment before getting up from the bed and walking over to him, looking into his eyes. “That’s why you prefer me to her, because I’m not her…is that it?” she questioned.

“Pretty much, I think,” he mused, “but you love differently, Claire,”

She frowned. “How?”

Peter sighed, thinking about how explain it to her. “You’re younger than her, obviously,” he noted, “Generally speaking though, she was often the one on top, giving more than receiving,”

“Oh,” Claire mused, blushing, “We really are different; my counterpart is a villainess dominating…”

“But she likes it when I take control sometimes,” Peter teased, smiling at her.

Claire shrugged, blushing even redder. “I think I like that way better,” she muttered.

He leaned down kissing her suddenly. “I like that way better too, Claire,” he whispered, pulling her body close to his. Claire closed her eyes, her back tensing and when she opened them, she was lying back on the bed again and Peter was spreading her legs, feeling her wet folds with his fingers.

“Oh God, Peter!” she moaned.

“You like that?” he teased as she wreathed beneath him, shaking her head yes. “I can do one better, Claire,”

Claire braced herself, shutting her eyes closed as he entered her. He stilled his body, feeling around at first, making circular and up and down motions, bracing his hands on her thighs. Claire sighed, opening her eyes, looking at him as he drove into her hard. She could feel pulse speed up and her folds throbbing, painful at first and then not. Claire reached over head, grabbing the pillow and digging her nails in them as Peter fucked her harder and harder.

All the while, her pulse speeding up until an orgasm consumed them both. Both of them moaned loudly, Claire trembling and sweat marking her forehead as Peter rolled off her, panting and breathing heavily. Claire looked over wearily at him as he looked back at her.

“I think I understand now,”

He looked curiously over at her. “What do you mean?”

“The allure, the attraction of being bad,” Claire mused, “I didn’t before but I do now. It’s a powerful and seductive feeling, like a drug. It’s addicting,”

Peter grinned at her. “Does that mean that you want try for a fourth round, Claire-bear?” he teased.

“It means that I wouldn’t mind if you visited me again, especially if we have more encounters like that,” she corrected him, “and anyway, I can’t now…I think I’d break if I had another orgasm like that,”

He chuckled. “You won’t break, Claire, trust me,” he teased.

“Still, promise me that it won’t be the last, Peter,” she managed, “I don’t want it to be.”

“Don’t worry,” he soothed as she rested her head in the crook of his neck. “It won’t be, I promise.”

The End