[ 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. ]
[ She clenches around him, and it punches another quiet sound from him. He rests his hands on her back for a moment, enjoying her touch, the way her grip tightens at his shoulders.
She's wetter than she was earlier, thanks to what remains of his own cum and her second orgasm, but she feels as fantastic as she did earlier, her walls wet and tight around him. Gamora looks gorgeous above him, her curls falling over her shoulders, her skin flushed and mottled by the marks he had brought to the surface.
He runs his fingertips over a bruise low on her neck, feels that prickly, dark flare in his chest again, but before he can examine that sensation too closely, his thoughts scatter when she grinds against him. His teeth catch his lower lip as he cages in the sound that tries to escape him, turning it instead into a sharp exhale. ]
[ He’s so quiet, so restrained, and Gamora gets it, she knows who and how he is. But —
She opens her eyes to watch him, gnawing her bottom lip as she keeps grinding and rutting against him, while staying as close as she can get. She reaches up, cupping his jaw and thumbing the little dent in his lip, coaxing it of his teeth.
(She releases her own when she speaks.) ]
You don’t — have to hold back.
[ Soft, a little ragged. ]
I want all of you.
[ Everything he wants to share with her.
Finally, after just enjoying how full she feels, she’s lifting her hips, dragging herself up and up, only to drop back down the full length of his cock with a throaty groan. ]
[ He breathing becomes a little rougher, a little heavier, but he keeps his lower lip between his teeth – at least until Gamora's hand curls against his cheek and her thumb sweeps beneath his lip. He looks up at her a little uncertainly, but he does as she tacitly asks, letting his lips part.
He understands what she's asking for, of course, but Peter has never been a particularly vocal person. She wants to hear him, apparently, and there's a small, traitorous part of him that thinks, Anything for you. It means he'll have to learn how to break the habit of restraining himself and keeping those damning sounds to caged and trapped.
He lets out a breath, offering a quick nod – an unsure gesture that seems to say, I'll try. She moves herself slowly along his length, and he lets himself give voice to the relieved noise that escapes him – though it's still quiet compared to Gamora's groan.
He rocks up against her, matching whatever rhythm she sets. God, she feels fantastic, and even if deeply ingrained defensive instinct is nagging at him to get himself out of this vulnerable position, he willfully ignores it. He instead occupies himself with memorizing her slightly swollen lips, the dark marks dotted along her neck and chest, the way her hair falls over her shoulders, the delicate curve of her breasts above him. ]
You're beautiful.
[ And the words escape him on a reverent whisper. ]
[ Of course it's not the first time someone has told Gamora that she's beautiful. She's heard it time and again, and as much as she may be aware that she's attractive, it's different hearing it so genuinely from Peter.
It sits in her belly, overwhelming her.
Her breathing catches, her body tensing as her cheeks flush for an entirely different reason, but she doesn't look displeased; on the contrary, she's practically thrumming with the praise.
It's just different with Peter.
Her own sounds fall freely as she moves with Peter, falling into an effortless rhythm that satisfies some deep, burning need she'd been ignoring. She'd wanted to explore Peter more thoroughly, to wring sounds out of him however she can, but god, this, this moment, the way he's looking at her – it's intoxicating.
She bends over him, bracing herself again so she can kiss him, heat and something more burning between their lips. ]
[ With as intently as he's watching her, he sees that subtle change – the hitch in her breath, the flash of color on her face, the way she momentarily freezes. She practically glows after those two words, and there's something about that reaction that makes warmth suffuse his chest. He files the thought away for later.
For now, he lets out a small, relieved sound the instant her lips meet his. He was a heartbeat away from pushing himself up to do the very same, needing an outlet for the heat and want storming through his system. He licks into her mouth, curling a hand a little possessively over the nape of her neck.
(That dark, faint thought again: Mine.)
He rocks into her, bracing her with one hand curled around her hip, matching the rhythm she sets. Her pussy is wet, hot, tight around his cock, and he lets out a few sounds that would have been quiet swears, if his mouth weren't occupied. He can feel that golden heat buzzing through him, down his spine, feels that slow and steady build. ]
[ The sounds are small by almost any measure, except that Gamora knows they're monumental for Peter. She knows how much any kind of noise or display of affect might be a show of weakness, but Peter is trusting her with this, this small thing.
The part of her that isn't swept away by the pleasure racing through her is basking in what Peter is sharing.
Her own moans and whimpers are lost in the kiss, a groan that she can't contain as she's held close, as she keeps fucking herself on his cock, again and again and again—
She breaks away to pant against Peter's mouth, the noises needy and pleading, almost, as she gets that much closer to yet another orgasm. It feels farther off, less of a concern, because what really matters is seeing Peter come again, feeling it, feeling him. ]
[ There was a point where he thought Gamora was too loud, too vocal, but at this exact moment? He's pleased for it, drinking in every mewl and groan, memorizing the eager, wanting pitch of her voice. She sounds perfect like this, and he wants to wring every noise of pleasure from her.
He drives into her, feeling the way she stutters, the way her walls clench around him. He's not entirely sure just yet, doesn't quite know the signs that betray her next climax, but he thinks he may be on the right track. Her breaths are ragged against his lips, damn and hot, threaded with the occasional groan and whimper. He can feel himself getting close, too, feels himself getting herded to that sweet edge. ]
Fuck, Gamora—
[ Whispered against her lips, and his hand tightens on the nape of her neck, on the curve of her hip, as he fucks her.
And suddenly he's falling, coming apart, and he groans against her mouth, her name on his lips, followed by a few quiet oaths and swears. ]
[ He's cursing and he's saying her name, and it's intoxicating. It's still quiet, but it's more, and that deep groan that follows, every word on his lips, is music to her ears. She wants to listen to him on repeat, wants to do every damn thing to push him to this point and more.
They'll have time later.
Plenty of time.
Gamora is still shaking over him, panting for breath, trembling with the sensations rocketing through her. She didn't hit that peak again, but after everything, that's not a concern; watching Peter get to that second orgasm was perfect.
She pants raggedly for air, her arm shaking as she keeps herself propped up, finally opening her eyes to look down at him. The smile tugging at her lips is so warm, so sweet, so real, and she rests her forehead against his, so blissed out. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
You’ve commented on my patience before.
[ Up, down, until she lets her hands drift down to finally wrap around his cock. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
[ 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. ]
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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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She's wetter than she was earlier, thanks to what remains of his own cum and her second orgasm, but she feels as fantastic as she did earlier, her walls wet and tight around him. Gamora looks gorgeous above him, her curls falling over her shoulders, her skin flushed and mottled by the marks he had brought to the surface.
He runs his fingertips over a bruise low on her neck, feels that prickly, dark flare in his chest again, but before he can examine that sensation too closely, his thoughts scatter when she grinds against him. His teeth catch his lower lip as he cages in the sound that tries to escape him, turning it instead into a sharp exhale. ]
no subject
She opens her eyes to watch him, gnawing her bottom lip as she keeps grinding and rutting against him, while staying as close as she can get. She reaches up, cupping his jaw and thumbing the little dent in his lip, coaxing it of his teeth.
(She releases her own when she speaks.) ]
You don’t — have to hold back.
[ Soft, a little ragged. ]
I want all of you.
[ Everything he wants to share with her.
Finally, after just enjoying how full she feels, she’s lifting her hips, dragging herself up and up, only to drop back down the full length of his cock with a throaty groan. ]
no subject
He understands what she's asking for, of course, but Peter has never been a particularly vocal person. She wants to hear him, apparently, and there's a small, traitorous part of him that thinks, Anything for you. It means he'll have to learn how to break the habit of restraining himself and keeping those damning sounds to caged and trapped.
He lets out a breath, offering a quick nod – an unsure gesture that seems to say, I'll try. She moves herself slowly along his length, and he lets himself give voice to the relieved noise that escapes him – though it's still quiet compared to Gamora's groan.
He rocks up against her, matching whatever rhythm she sets. God, she feels fantastic, and even if deeply ingrained defensive instinct is nagging at him to get himself out of this vulnerable position, he willfully ignores it. He instead occupies himself with memorizing her slightly swollen lips, the dark marks dotted along her neck and chest, the way her hair falls over her shoulders, the delicate curve of her breasts above him. ]
You're beautiful.
[ And the words escape him on a reverent whisper. ]
no subject
It sits in her belly, overwhelming her.
Her breathing catches, her body tensing as her cheeks flush for an entirely different reason, but she doesn't look displeased; on the contrary, she's practically thrumming with the praise.
It's just different with Peter.
Her own sounds fall freely as she moves with Peter, falling into an effortless rhythm that satisfies some deep, burning need she'd been ignoring. She'd wanted to explore Peter more thoroughly, to wring sounds out of him however she can, but god, this, this moment, the way he's looking at her – it's intoxicating.
She bends over him, bracing herself again so she can kiss him, heat and something more burning between their lips. ]
no subject
For now, he lets out a small, relieved sound the instant her lips meet his. He was a heartbeat away from pushing himself up to do the very same, needing an outlet for the heat and want storming through his system. He licks into her mouth, curling a hand a little possessively over the nape of her neck.
(That dark, faint thought again: Mine.)
He rocks into her, bracing her with one hand curled around her hip, matching the rhythm she sets. Her pussy is wet, hot, tight around his cock, and he lets out a few sounds that would have been quiet swears, if his mouth weren't occupied. He can feel that golden heat buzzing through him, down his spine, feels that slow and steady build. ]
no subject
The part of her that isn't swept away by the pleasure racing through her is basking in what Peter is sharing.
Her own moans and whimpers are lost in the kiss, a groan that she can't contain as she's held close, as she keeps fucking herself on his cock, again and again and again—
She breaks away to pant against Peter's mouth, the noises needy and pleading, almost, as she gets that much closer to yet another orgasm. It feels farther off, less of a concern, because what really matters is seeing Peter come again, feeling it, feeling him. ]
no subject
He drives into her, feeling the way she stutters, the way her walls clench around him. He's not entirely sure just yet, doesn't quite know the signs that betray her next climax, but he thinks he may be on the right track. Her breaths are ragged against his lips, damn and hot, threaded with the occasional groan and whimper. He can feel himself getting close, too, feels himself getting herded to that sweet edge. ]
Fuck, Gamora—
[ Whispered against her lips, and his hand tightens on the nape of her neck, on the curve of her hip, as he fucks her.
And suddenly he's falling, coming apart, and he groans against her mouth, her name on his lips, followed by a few quiet oaths and swears. ]
no subject
They'll have time later.
Plenty of time.
Gamora is still shaking over him, panting for breath, trembling with the sensations rocketing through her. She didn't hit that peak again, but after everything, that's not a concern; watching Peter get to that second orgasm was perfect.
She pants raggedly for air, her arm shaking as she keeps herself propped up, finally opening her eyes to look down at him. The smile tugging at her lips is so warm, so sweet, so real, and she rests her forehead against his, so blissed out. ]
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