[ He presses one hand into the mattress to hold up his weight, and he lets his hand drift down to her pussy. His fingertips skim over her slick quivering folds, feather-light and quick. ]
[ His touch is electric, even if he's barely made contact with her at all, and she stops breathing for a second, her hips arching like she wants to chase after his hand. But there's nothing to satisfy her, and she drops back to the bed with a short, frustrated sound. ]
You said you wanted to come, not how you wanted to come.
[ Peter doesn't have much to compare to, but his refractory period is shorter than an average Terran male. With all the time he's spent working Gamora into a frustrated knot of want, he's been buying himself some time, too.
He applies a firmer pressure this time, fingertips catching some of her natural slick, and what remains of his own cum. ]
[ Her lips part to complain (of course), but his fingers run across her pussy again, and this is more direct, more intense; she has to hold back a sharper sound. ]
[ Her fingers pull at the blankets again with a shivering moan, and even after he's presented her with so many wonderful choices, it's hard to focus and pick just one. ]
I— have been patient.
[ Despite her breathiness, she manages to have that smug "thank you for noticing" tone.
She lifts her leg, running it along Peter's hip as she looks up at him with those darkened eyes, giving him her own teasing smile. ]
[ He meets that smile with a flat, unimpressed look, though the effect is almost certainly dampened by the amusement in his gaze.
But he starts to duck down again, lips pressing to her sternum again. ]
I think I can manage that.
[ But he doesn't set in straight away; apparently Peter doesn't think she's been patient enough, and he licks, bites, and kisses a meandering path down her stomach.
He strokes her wet folds, fingers slipping into her pussy with ease, thanks to her natural slick and his cum. They're quick, shallow thrusts, just something to sand away the jagged edge of her impatience as he works his way down her body. ]
[ Gamora is starting to catch onto Peter – in that, she isn't surprised when he doesn't immediately set into eating her out. She might have honestly been shocked if he jumped into it quickly enough to satisfy Gamora's impatience.
His fingers, however, at least offer something more, light and not enough to get her off anytime soon, but it's more.
And that's enough of a change that she'll gladly take it all.
She doesn't keep tugging at Peter's hair, but her fingers comb restlessly back through the mess she's already made of it as she fitfully clenches and unclenches her grip on the blankets. ]
God, yes...
[ Her hips give short, half-bucks as she tries to find that shallow rhythm, though it mostly just keeps her trying to wriggle without displacing Peter. ]
[ The sensation of her fingers through his hair is surprisingly pleasant. She doesn't yank at him, doesn't try to force his head where she wants him, though he's sure the temptation is probably there. Instead, she's just feeling him, finding other outlets for the sense of need that's certain to be winding low in her gut.
It's... thoughtful, though he wonders if he might be reading too much into it.
His finds his way to her hips, and he pauses to leave yet another mark, just at the crease of her thigh. He thrusts a little more deeply into her pussy, fingers curling upward as he slowly pulls out. ]
[ It's hard to split her focus between Peter's lips and his fingers – the blunt pressure of his teeth as he marks her, and the deeper press of broader digits, and then—
She arches as he drags his fingers back out of her, oh so slowly, and she feels that tugging, sparking pleasure in her gut, at the base of her spine when he purposefully rubs over her g-spot. Her whine is mixed with a groan, her heels digging into the bed, and her breathless babbling sounds dreadfully close to pleas.
That reaction was far sharper than he expected, and for a second, he looks caught between surprised and pleased. She starts babbling (begging), rocking against his hand. Gamora sounds amazing like that, wanting and needing and so close to shameless, and something dark unfurls in his chest.
And in keeping with the theme for the night, he doesn't immediately set into it, despite Gamora's pleas. He slips his fingers in and out of her, starting to set a rhythm for her to follow; once it's set, though, he purposefully seeks out that same spot on his next slide out, fingers curled to rub against that bundle of nerves. ]
[ She should have expected he wouldn't immediately indulge her, but she doesn't have the presence of mind to complain when he's giving her that rhythm to meet – and she does, so easily. She fucks herself to that slow beat in effortless time, and she's just about to lose herself in it again when his fingers curl so perfectly.
She cries out in surprise, bucking properly, fully onto his fingers as her pussy flutters and clutches at him, trying to keep him in place. ]
Peter—!
[ Her thighs shake as she's torn between rocking with him and keeping herself so still, like that will give him better access with his fucking perfect fingers.
[ Fuck, she sounds so good like this, and the way she trembles beneath his touch makes heat travel down his spine, pool in his gut.
He settles properly between her legs, one arm curling beneath her leg to press his hand to her hip. His lips close around her clit, and he presses his tongue to the sensitive bud, slowly circling it in time with each thrust of his fingers, each drag against the spot inside her pussy. It's slow, steady, and practically relentless, but she demanded it, after all. ]
[ Is this the worst? Is this the best? Gamora can't really decide because as soon as Peter's lips settle on her clit, she's gone.
The shaking turns to trembling, and somehow, she doesn't writhe wildly under Peter; her spine is bowed, her fingers going tight in his hair, but her hips stay in place, coaxed down by the hand curled under her leg. She doesn't buck him off or rut against his mouth, but she doesn't need to.
The climb is simultaneously agonizing and exhilarating. It comes too quickly and too slowly, and she doesn't even realize what's happening until the orgasm building in her belly snaps. The waves roll over her, again and again, and her pussy goes vise-like around Peter's fingers as her whole body stays taught and tense like a cord waiting to be plucked – until all of it leaves her in one rush. She goes entirely lax, panting for breath and making those mewling sounds under Peter, whines as the aftershocks still make her pussy tighten and release.
... It's only then that she realizes she had such a tight hold on Peter's hair, and she finally releases him with a breathy, mumbled apology. ]
He feels the tight clench of her walls around his fingers, feels the way she quivers and shudders beneath him as she rides out each golden wave of her orgasm. She's tense, rigid, and he works her through it, keeping up the rhythm of his hand, his tongue circling her clit over and over and over.
When her climax starts to fade, he slowly eases away, carefully and gently pulling his fingers out of her pussy. He had expected that tight grip in his hair, once she finally came, and he's hardly bothered. At her apology, he offers a small shake of his head to say, I don't mind.
He runs his hands along her thighs, pressing lingering, lazy kisses along her hips and legs as he waits for her to wind down. ]
[ Another quiet laugh, though as she nuzzles against him, he reaches up to card his fingers through her hair.
He's content with just this, the feel of her bare skin against his, the damp heat of her breath against his neck. She seems content, at ease, and there's still something so alien about that to him, that she could find comfort with him, of all people.
He ducks down to press a kiss to the top of her head, to nose at her hair. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I didn’t realize.
[ Which is a bald-faced lie; Peter knows exactly what he was doing, but he delivers it flatly anyway. ]
I thought you were enjoying what I was doing.
[ Another slow drag of his tongue, another quick bite, and his other hand gently squeezes her neglected tit. ]
It might help if you told me what you wanted.
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(He knows exactly what he's doing.) ]
I want to cum.
[ Which she's less shy about admitting when the alternative is Peter continuing to drive her up the wall. ]
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Right.
[ He hides his smile against her breastbone under the guise of leaving another kiss. ]
I thought we were working our way toward that.
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[ This is half-muttered under her breath, because she knows Peter is doing this on purpose. ]
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[ And he reaches up, fingertips ghosting over a bright spot that promises to be a bruise later.
He is absolutely being purposely obtuse, and this time, he lets her see his almost impish smile. ]
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She knew he was messing with her. ]
But I don't remember saying you should tease me until I accidentally soak the bed.
[ Part of it is definitely his cum, too, but she's so horridly aroused again, and the longer he makes her wait, the worse it gets. ]
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You didn't say I couldn't, either.
[ He presses one hand into the mattress to hold up his weight, and he lets his hand drift down to her pussy. His fingertips skim over her slick quivering folds, feather-light and quick. ]
Tell me what you want, then.
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I thought I just did.
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[ Peter doesn't have much to compare to, but his refractory period is shorter than an average Terran male. With all the time he's spent working Gamora into a frustrated knot of want, he's been buying himself some time, too.
He applies a firmer pressure this time, fingertips catching some of her natural slick, and what remains of his own cum. ]
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And— what do my options include?
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[ He finds her clit, circling the sensitive nub with a barely there touch. ]
Or I could fuck you again, since you've been so patient.
[ Though he says it a little facetiously, given her earlier complaints. ]
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I— have been patient.
[ Despite her breathiness, she manages to have that smug "thank you for noticing" tone.
She lifts her leg, running it along Peter's hip as she looks up at him with those darkened eyes, giving him her own teasing smile. ]
Can I have your hand and your mouth?
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But he starts to duck down again, lips pressing to her sternum again. ]
I think I can manage that.
[ But he doesn't set in straight away; apparently Peter doesn't think she's been patient enough, and he licks, bites, and kisses a meandering path down her stomach.
He strokes her wet folds, fingers slipping into her pussy with ease, thanks to her natural slick and his cum. They're quick, shallow thrusts, just something to sand away the jagged edge of her impatience as he works his way down her body. ]
no subject
His fingers, however, at least offer something more, light and not enough to get her off anytime soon, but it's more.
And that's enough of a change that she'll gladly take it all.
She doesn't keep tugging at Peter's hair, but her fingers comb restlessly back through the mess she's already made of it as she fitfully clenches and unclenches her grip on the blankets. ]
God, yes...
[ Her hips give short, half-bucks as she tries to find that shallow rhythm, though it mostly just keeps her trying to wriggle without displacing Peter. ]
no subject
It's... thoughtful, though he wonders if he might be reading too much into it.
His finds his way to her hips, and he pauses to leave yet another mark, just at the crease of her thigh. He thrusts a little more deeply into her pussy, fingers curling upward as he slowly pulls out. ]
no subject
She arches as he drags his fingers back out of her, oh so slowly, and she feels that tugging, sparking pleasure in her gut, at the base of her spine when he purposefully rubs over her g-spot. Her whine is mixed with a groan, her heels digging into the bed, and her breathless babbling sounds dreadfully close to pleas.
(do that again do that again god peter—) ]
no subject
That reaction was far sharper than he expected, and for a second, he looks caught between surprised and pleased. She starts babbling (begging), rocking against his hand. Gamora sounds amazing like that, wanting and needing and so close to shameless, and something dark unfurls in his chest.
And in keeping with the theme for the night, he doesn't immediately set into it, despite Gamora's pleas. He slips his fingers in and out of her, starting to set a rhythm for her to follow; once it's set, though, he purposefully seeks out that same spot on his next slide out, fingers curled to rub against that bundle of nerves. ]
no subject
She cries out in surprise, bucking properly, fully onto his fingers as her pussy flutters and clutches at him, trying to keep him in place. ]
Peter—!
[ Her thighs shake as she's torn between rocking with him and keeping herself so still, like that will give him better access with his fucking perfect fingers.
(peter please peter—) ]
no subject
He settles properly between her legs, one arm curling beneath her leg to press his hand to her hip. His lips close around her clit, and he presses his tongue to the sensitive bud, slowly circling it in time with each thrust of his fingers, each drag against the spot inside her pussy. It's slow, steady, and practically relentless, but she demanded it, after all. ]
no subject
The shaking turns to trembling, and somehow, she doesn't writhe wildly under Peter; her spine is bowed, her fingers going tight in his hair, but her hips stay in place, coaxed down by the hand curled under her leg. She doesn't buck him off or rut against his mouth, but she doesn't need to.
The climb is simultaneously agonizing and exhilarating. It comes too quickly and too slowly, and she doesn't even realize what's happening until the orgasm building in her belly snaps. The waves roll over her, again and again, and her pussy goes vise-like around Peter's fingers as her whole body stays taught and tense like a cord waiting to be plucked – until all of it leaves her in one rush. She goes entirely lax, panting for breath and making those mewling sounds under Peter, whines as the aftershocks still make her pussy tighten and release.
... It's only then that she realizes she had such a tight hold on Peter's hair, and she finally releases him with a breathy, mumbled apology. ]
no subject
He feels the tight clench of her walls around his fingers, feels the way she quivers and shudders beneath him as she rides out each golden wave of her orgasm. She's tense, rigid, and he works her through it, keeping up the rhythm of his hand, his tongue circling her clit over and over and over.
When her climax starts to fade, he slowly eases away, carefully and gently pulling his fingers out of her pussy. He had expected that tight grip in his hair, once she finally came, and he's hardly bothered. At her apology, he offers a small shake of his head to say, I don't mind.
He runs his hands along her thighs, pressing lingering, lazy kisses along her hips and legs as he waits for her to wind down. ]
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... Fuck.
[ She's still floating in that post-orgasm bliss, trying to catch her breath as the world spins around her. ]
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Your eloquence is inspiring.
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Shut up.
[ Such eloquence. ]
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He's content with just this, the feel of her bare skin against his, the damp heat of her breath against his neck. She seems content, at ease, and there's still something so alien about that to him, that she could find comfort with him, of all people.
He ducks down to press a kiss to the top of her head, to nose at her hair. ]
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