[ She leans over him, planting her hands on either side of his head, brow raised. She knows Peter would win in nearly any competition they found themselves in, but Gamora will still taunt him and rise to the occasion. ]
[ His expression doesn't change, and he makes it a point to keep his hands on her hips.
(That instinct is there, just for a split second, to flip their positions. Lying on his back with her above him leaves him vulnerable, exposed; he has fewer options for maneuvering.
He has to actively remind himself to simply relax.) ]
It's not a challenge unless you make it one.
I'm within my rights to be skeptical if you haven't offered any proof.
[ Peter really could throw her across the room, if he wanted to. She has some biological advantages over other races, but Peter is also modified to handle whatever the universe throws at him.
Gamora isn't much of a threat, in that case. ]
The fact that I'm not unconscious beside you should be plenty of proof.
[ She ducks down, finding the angle of his jaw to kiss slowly up to his ear. ]
[ He lets out a huff of a laugh, unconsciously tilting his head to give her more room to work. He brings up a hand to cup the nape of her neck, fingers threading through her curls. ]
No, you're not.
[ And he says it warmly, fondly. Gamora is capable of a great deal of things, his teasing aside.
Given what he's seen, Gamora is wildly impressive – though there's little chance of Peter saying as much aloud. It would go straight to her head. ]
[ The warmth in Peter's voice melts some of Gamora's bravado, if only because it's so rare to hear that kind of genuine fondness – from Peter or just... in general.
Her smile is smothered slightly against his jaw, but there's something a little sweeter in the next kiss. ]
Then why are you underestimating me?
[ She presses a kiss behind his ear, nipping at his earlobe, dragging her teeth lightly down the beating of his pulse. ]
[ He cards his fingers through her hair, the blunt ends of his nails slowly dragging over her scalp.
He notices the focus she puts into that one spot on his collarbone, the intent behind the way she bites and licks. The mark will last for a handful of hours, if that, but he at least appreciates the attention and the wet heat of her mouth against his skin.
He lets out another quiet breath, his other hand palming the curve of her ass. ]
The more evidence there is, the stronger your case.
[ She hums thoughtfully against his skin, drawing away with one last nip. ]
Then I really should start compiling more evidence for your satisfaction.
[ And get around to the "satisfaction."
She keeps herself propped up with one hand, her other sliding along his ribs (again, smoothing her thumb over scars – lovingly, almost) as she pushes herself up on her knees. ]
[ The reverence she pays his scars is odd, given that he's far more accustomed to them being ignored. Gamora has always been fascinated by them, as far as he can tell – not because of some morbid compulsion, like what would compel someone to stare at a train wreck, but because she genuinely finds them... pretty.
He remembers her stray thoughts from that odd day on the moon. He remembers her thinking that his scars were important because they were a part of him, and he remembers how sincerely her thoughts had sounded in his head, and he remembers— how sweet he had found it all, and how strange.
And he feels the same way now, though he keeps the puzzlement off of his face. When she kneels over him, he brackets her sides with his hands, palms sliding up to cup her breasts. Her confidence is insanely attractive, and he faintly smiles up at her. ]
[ A purr of approval rumbles against Peter as his hands wander up, that warm pressure settling on her breasts again.
God, she just loves it when he touches her.
She pushes herself up to sit over him again, settling on his thighs so her hands can travel more diligently, so she can focus on what she's touching. Lower, to his hips, as she drifts closer to his cock.
[ His cock twitches a little as her hands move toward it. He's still half-hard from fucking Gamora with his fingers, listening to the way she had reacted, watching the way she had fallen apart. ]
You could.
[ He's hardly surprised when she doesn't immediately take it in hand, though, and much like she is, Peter lets his hands wander. He curls his hands over her chest, thumbs teasing her nipples back to attention, before drifts back down to appreciate the warmth of her body beneath his palms. ]
Sitting and staring doesn't do much to substantiate your claims about your stamina.
[ Peter doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until her hands drift away, and he exhales on a quiet, almost exasperated huff of a laugh. ]
I don’t remember bringing up your sense of restraint.
[ But he senses and sees the way she pauses, hears the hitch in her breath, and he moves his hands up to her breasts again. He slowly circles thumbs over her nipples, still darkened from his earlier attentions. Now that he knows how sensitive she is, now that he knows how much she enjoys being touched there, he intends to take advantage of it. ]
[ He inhales a sharply – just a tiny little hitch in his breath – when her fingers curl around his length. ]
I have, yes, but that's not what we're discussing now.
[ His ministrations don't stop, however, and he continues circling her nipples until carefully, almost experimentally, pinches them between his thumb and the side of his palm. ]
[ She tries not to react as intensely when he punches her nipples, but she still arches into the attention, catching a groan behind her teeth. ]
Why not both?
[ Again, she’s in no rush to hurry this handjob, and she squeezes him firmly, feeling the weight of him in her palm. Warm, heavy, and she can appreciate the shape of him, even if he’s not necessarily like any other males she’d been with. ]
[ His breathing goes slightly unsteady as she strokes him, but he still has mind enough to huff out a laugh and look at her a little doubtfully. ]
You sound like you're inviting criticism.
[ Which Gamora would absolutely never do, under normal circumstances
She hasn't pushed his hands off yet, which is why he continues to explore. He carefully pinches her nipples again, just a touch more pressure, before letting his hands slide away. He finds the blades of her hips, his thumb tracing the hard edge, before he slides his palms down the toned muscle of her thighs. ]
[ She’s cut short when Peter increases the pressure, a little whine catching in her throat, her knees squeezing his hips. ]
Or praise.
[ She finds a slow rhythm with her hand, feeling and exploring him. She’s trying to pay close attention to his reactions, to see what makes him tense and shiver, even if she’s just taking her time. ]
[ Another amused huff, and his hands slide back up her legs to curl around her hips. ]
You have to earn that.
[ Her hands feel good against his cock, even if she's not really trying to get him off. She's feeling him out, he can tell, exploring him, now that they both have the patience and focus for it. The pace is lazy enough that he doesn't feel compelled to follow her into it just yet.
He lets out another unsteady breath before reaching up to cup her tit again. It's obvious enough that Gamora enjoys this, but there are other variables to examine. He takes her nipple between his thumb and knuckle again, applying slow, even pressure. ]
[ His response to that is a low, unconcerned hum, even as heat pools low in his gut at her reaction.
But he's watching her intently for signs of discomfort or distress. Gamora is by no means delicate, even if she may look it, but he doesn't want to cross a line, doesn't want to misread the situation and cause her any harm.
He finds her other breast, squeezing both of her nipples again and studying her reaction closely. ]
[ That finally stops Gamora; she releases his cock, gripping his hips with both hands as she digs blunt nails into skin. ]
Peter—
[ Her hair falls forward as her chin dips down, her lips parted. ]
Wait—
[ She doesn’t want him to stop, but she needs to focus long enough to lift herself on her knees. She shifts, reaching beneath herself to find Peter’s cock, to guide him to her dripping pussy. She’s so unbelievably wet after everything – and they’re just getting started.
A shiver as she rocks against the head of his cock, letting him slide through her folds, before she finally starts sinking into him. ]
[ He immediately releases her, once she tells him to wait. He frowns with concern, lips parting to offer one of his rare apologies, but—
She shifts, and when she takes hold of his cock to guide him into her pussy, he lets out a quiet sound of relief, just barely voiced. She's hot and wet against the head of his cock, and when she sinks down along his length, he lets out a trembling exhale. ]
[ She sinks fully down his cock until she’s sitting flush with Peter’s hips, shuddering over him. She braces her palms on Peter’s chest, panting and trying to catch her breath, opening her eyes to watch Peter, to see the faint haze in his eyes, the flicker of unsteadiness. ]
So do you— god.
[ Her walls clench and flutter around him, and at first, she just enjoys the fullness again (since this is technically only the second time he’s fucked her). She kneads lightly at his shoulders, an outlet for the neediness and fulfillment she feels all at once, because she just can’t keep still.
When her hips start shifting, she isn’t lifting herself yet; she’s grinding down, rocking back and forth without letting him slip even an inch out of her. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ She leans over him, planting her hands on either side of his head, brow raised. She knows Peter would win in nearly any competition they found themselves in, but Gamora will still taunt him and rise to the occasion. ]
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(That instinct is there, just for a split second, to flip their positions. Lying on his back with her above him leaves him vulnerable, exposed; he has fewer options for maneuvering.
He has to actively remind himself to simply relax.) ]
It's not a challenge unless you make it one.
I'm within my rights to be skeptical if you haven't offered any proof.
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Gamora isn't much of a threat, in that case. ]
The fact that I'm not unconscious beside you should be plenty of proof.
[ She ducks down, finding the angle of his jaw to kiss slowly up to his ear. ]
I'm not so unimpressive.
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No, you're not.
[ And he says it warmly, fondly. Gamora is capable of a great deal of things, his teasing aside.
Given what he's seen, Gamora is wildly impressive – though there's little chance of Peter saying as much aloud. It would go straight to her head. ]
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Her smile is smothered slightly against his jaw, but there's something a little sweeter in the next kiss. ]
Then why are you underestimating me?
[ She presses a kiss behind his ear, nipping at his earlobe, dragging her teeth lightly down the beating of his pulse. ]
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[ He pauses, letting out an unsteady breath when he feels the drag of her teeth. His free hand runs along her hip and side in a slow, even rhythm. ]
I'd just rather to see a demonstration than take you at your word.
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[ She kisses lower, pausing to mouth at his clavicle. She nibbles, sucks – intently enough to call a little reddened mark to the surface of his skin.
She knows it won't last long, but she can still admire it. ]
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He notices the focus she puts into that one spot on his collarbone, the intent behind the way she bites and licks. The mark will last for a handful of hours, if that, but he at least appreciates the attention and the wet heat of her mouth against his skin.
He lets out another quiet breath, his other hand palming the curve of her ass. ]
The more evidence there is, the stronger your case.
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Then I really should start compiling more evidence for your satisfaction.
[ And get around to the "satisfaction."
She keeps herself propped up with one hand, her other sliding along his ribs (again, smoothing her thumb over scars – lovingly, almost) as she pushes herself up on her knees. ]
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He remembers her stray thoughts from that odd day on the moon. He remembers her thinking that his scars were important because they were a part of him, and he remembers how sincerely her thoughts had sounded in his head, and he remembers— how sweet he had found it all, and how strange.
And he feels the same way now, though he keeps the puzzlement off of his face. When she kneels over him, he brackets her sides with his hands, palms sliding up to cup her breasts. Her confidence is insanely attractive, and he faintly smiles up at her. ]
I wouldn't object.
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God, she just loves it when he touches her.
She pushes herself up to sit over him again, settling on his thighs so her hands can travel more diligently, so she can focus on what she's touching. Lower, to his hips, as she drifts closer to his cock.
Her smirk is somewhat softer, a touch sweeter. ]
Or I could just keep admiring the view.
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You could.
[ He's hardly surprised when she doesn't immediately take it in hand, though, and much like she is, Peter lets his hands wander. He curls his hands over her chest, thumbs teasing her nipples back to attention, before drifts back down to appreciate the warmth of her body beneath his palms. ]
Sitting and staring doesn't do much to substantiate your claims about your stamina.
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But it does speak highly of my self-restraint.
[ Since he’s often accused her of impatience.
Her hands are unbearably close to his cock, before she runs them up his belly instead. ]
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I don’t remember bringing up your sense of restraint.
[ But he senses and sees the way she pauses, hears the hitch in her breath, and he moves his hands up to her breasts again. He slowly circles thumbs over her nipples, still darkened from his earlier attentions. Now that he knows how sensitive she is, now that he knows how much she enjoys being touched there, he intends to take advantage of it. ]
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You’ve commented on my patience before.
[ Up, down, until she lets her hands drift down to finally wrap around his cock. ]
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I have, yes, but that's not what we're discussing now.
[ His ministrations don't stop, however, and he continues circling her nipples until carefully, almost experimentally, pinches them between his thumb and the side of his palm. ]
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Why not both?
[ Again, she’s in no rush to hurry this handjob, and she squeezes him firmly, feeling the weight of him in her palm. Warm, heavy, and she can appreciate the shape of him, even if he’s not necessarily like any other males she’d been with. ]
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You sound like you're inviting criticism.
[ Which Gamora would absolutely never do, under normal circumstances
She hasn't pushed his hands off yet, which is why he continues to explore. He carefully pinches her nipples again, just a touch more pressure, before letting his hands slide away. He finds the blades of her hips, his thumb tracing the hard edge, before he slides his palms down the toned muscle of her thighs. ]
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[ She’s cut short when Peter increases the pressure, a little whine catching in her throat, her knees squeezing his hips. ]
Or praise.
[ She finds a slow rhythm with her hand, feeling and exploring him. She’s trying to pay close attention to his reactions, to see what makes him tense and shiver, even if she’s just taking her time. ]
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You have to earn that.
[ Her hands feel good against his cock, even if she's not really trying to get him off. She's feeling him out, he can tell, exploring him, now that they both have the patience and focus for it. The pace is lazy enough that he doesn't feel compelled to follow her into it just yet.
He lets out another unsteady breath before reaching up to cup her tit again. It's obvious enough that Gamora enjoys this, but there are other variables to examine. He takes her nipple between his thumb and knuckle again, applying slow, even pressure. ]
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[ Except it’s also hard to focus when the pressure increases, as he pinches her slowly, firmly, and her spine bows, her breathing stuttering. ]
—Fuck—
[ Her hand stills, her eyes closing for a moment. ]
You’re making it difficult to focus on you.
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But he's watching her intently for signs of discomfort or distress. Gamora is by no means delicate, even if she may look it, but he doesn't want to cross a line, doesn't want to misread the situation and cause her any harm.
He finds her other breast, squeezing both of her nipples again and studying her reaction closely. ]
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Peter—
[ Her hair falls forward as her chin dips down, her lips parted. ]
Wait—
[ She doesn’t want him to stop, but she needs to focus long enough to lift herself on her knees. She shifts, reaching beneath herself to find Peter’s cock, to guide him to her dripping pussy. She’s so unbelievably wet after everything – and they’re just getting started.
A shiver as she rocks against the head of his cock, letting him slide through her folds, before she finally starts sinking into him. ]
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She shifts, and when she takes hold of his cock to guide him into her pussy, he lets out a quiet sound of relief, just barely voiced. She's hot and wet against the head of his cock, and when she sinks down along his length, he lets out a trembling exhale. ]
You feel amazing.
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So do you— god.
[ Her walls clench and flutter around him, and at first, she just enjoys the fullness again (since this is technically only the second time he’s fucked her). She kneads lightly at his shoulders, an outlet for the neediness and fulfillment she feels all at once, because she just can’t keep still.
When her hips start shifting, she isn’t lifting herself yet; she’s grinding down, rocking back and forth without letting him slip even an inch out of her. ]
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